Abel Dean
17 Published Stories
Abel Dean's Books and Stories
From Abandoned Wife To Powerful Heiress
Billionaires My marriage ended at a charity gala I organized. One moment, I was the pregnant, happy wife of tech mogul Gabe Sullivan; the next, a reporter' s phone screen announced to the world that he and his childhood sweetheart, Harper, were expecting a child.
Across the room, I saw them together, his hand resting on her stomach. This wasn't just an affair; it was a public declaration that erased me and our unborn baby.
To protect his company's billion-dollar IPO, Gabe, his mother, and even my own adoptive parents conspired against me. They moved Harper into our home, into my bed, treating her like royalty while I became a prisoner.
They painted me as unstable, a threat to the family's image. They accused me of cheating and claimed my child wasn't his.
The final command was unthinkable: terminate my pregnancy. They locked me in a room and scheduled the procedure, promising to drag me there if I refused.
But they made a mistake. They gave me back my phone to keep me quiet. Feigning surrender, I made one last, desperate call to a number I had kept hidden for years-a number belonging to my biological father, Antony Dean, the head of a family so powerful, they could make my husband's world burn. Married To The Cold Disabled Billionaire
Modern I finally returned to my biological family, the wealthy Townsends, carrying a DNA report after twenty-four years.
But my parents and brother didn't love me; they only fiercely protected the fake daughter, Juliet.
At her lavish birthday party, Juliet publicly humiliated me, treating me like a servant. When a scandal broke out and Juliet refused to fulfill the family's multi-billion-dollar marriage contract, my biological parents didn't hesitate. They happily let me take her place to marry Julian Sinclair—a paralyzed, notoriously cold billionaire. They thought they were sacrificing a worthless country girl to save their precious fake daughter.
On my wedding night, my new husband looked at me with absolute disgust and told me to stay away. Even worse, his jealous personal therapist deliberately slipped a deadly nerve toxin into my dinner, expecting me to die quietly.
Everyone in this world of extreme privilege looked down on me, thinking I was just a pathetic, uneducated pawn they could easily crush and discard.
But nobody knew that I was actually a master medical expert backed by the world's most powerful underground syndicate.
Looking at the poisoned sauce on my plate, I calmly put down my fork and smiled.
"It seems I've lost my appetite."
It was time to show these vipers who they had actually invited into their home. Pursued By The Billionaire: Mystic Heiress
Modern Lana was the biological heiress of the wealthy Beaumont family, but she was treated worse than a stray dog.
While her family hosted a lavish charity gala, a group of malicious socialites violently shoved her into the deep end of the estate pool.
As she thrashed and choked on the heavy, chlorinated water, the girls just watched and laughed.
When she finally managed to drag her dying body onto the wet tiles, her aunt Dahlia stood over her with a sneer.
"Look at you. You are an embarrassment to this family."
Dahlia then kicked Lana's wet hand, trying to force the drowning girl back into the deep end.
Her biological mother, Serena, rushed out, but she did not care that her daughter was coughing up pool water.
Instead, her mother raised her hand high, aiming to slap Lana across the face.
"You are ruining our PR image! If a scandal tanks the company stock, I will throw you back to the slums!"
The original Lana died in that cold pool, suffocated by the absolute lack of maternal concern and the cruel mockery of her abusers.
Why did her own blood relatives despise her so much? How could a mother watch her child drown and only care about a charity gala?
The fragile girl's soul shattered, leaving behind only a ghost of childish resentment and agonizing pain.
But when Lana's eyes snapped open again, the gaze radiating from her pupils was freezing cold.
The soul of a thousand-year-old mystic leader had just overwritten the remnants of this weak host.
Catching her mother's descending hand mid-air, Lana crushed the lingering resentment with cold indifference, ready to make them all pay. His Vengeful Game: The Bankrupt Heiress
Modern Once a pampered princess, Alaina now clutched a deactivated American Express card, staring out at Central Park. Her family’s fortune was gone, her life, over.
Her family's Hamptons estate, a four-generation legacy, was seized by Dyer Capital. The name hit her: Hardin Dyer, the poor boy she’d once scorned, had returned.
Hardin marched in, serving a divorce agreement. He'd orchestrated her family's downfall for revenge, giving her 24 hours to vacate his property. Penniless, her father faced prison, needing $50 million. Her mother forced her to beg Hardin, who sneered, offering the money for her body. Alaina ripped up the contract.
Hours later, her father had a heart attack. Desperate, she became "Lexi," a club girl enduring humiliation. In the Viper Room, Hardin's lackeys demanded she lick whiskey off his shoe for $10,000. Hardin watched. Outside, her brother Ashton's hand was threatened for a $3 million debt. Spirit shattered, Alaina returned, knelt on broken glass, offering to sign. But Hardin declared her family "dead," offering $10 million for her body, commanding her to use her mouth.
In a furious act of defiance, Alaina threw whiskey in his face, snatched the check, and fled. Yet, when he finally took her, a searing, foreign pain and blood on the sheets revealed a shocking truth: he had never touched her three years ago. Why had he let her believe such a monstrous lie? She Vanished: His World Froze Over
Modern My husband, Christopher Kramer, was Manhattan's most notorious playboy, famous for his seasonal affairs with nineteen-year-old girls. For five years, I believed I was the exception who had finally tamed him.
That illusion shattered when my father needed a bone marrow transplant. The perfect donor was a nineteen-year-old named Iris. On the day of the surgery, my father died because Christopher chose to stay in bed with her instead of taking her to the hospital.
His betrayal didn't stop there. When an elevator plunged, he pulled her out first and left me to fall. When a chandelier crashed, he shielded her body with his and stepped over me as I lay bleeding. He even stole my dead father's last gift to me and gave it to her.
Through it all, he called me selfish and ungrateful, completely oblivious to the fact that my father was already gone.
So I quietly signed the divorce papers and vanished. The day I left, he texted me.
"Good news, I found another donor for your dad. Let's go schedule the surgery." The Mafia Boss's Deadly Maid
Mafia I am a top-tier assassin. My ultimate target is Apollo Buck, the ruthless billionaire head of the Ninth Circle, known in the underworld as Thanatos.
To infiltrate his impenetrable fortress, I used his dying nephew as bait, disguising myself as a pathetic, terrified janitor with a ghost identity.
It worked. But Apollo has a deadly secret: a cursed Wyvern mark that makes him violently despise women. Yet, the moment his skin touched mine, his agonizing pain vanished. Obsessed with this unnatural peace, he dragged me into his heavily guarded estate. But when night fell, the trembling maid vanished. I broke into his exclusive club to slit his throat, only to realize I had walked straight into a trap.
The real Thanatos was waiting for me. We engaged in a brutal fight on the roof. His strength was inhuman, and he nearly killed me, slashing my thigh open with a combat knife.
How did he anticipate my every move? And why did his murderous rage suddenly falter the second he smelled the cheap mints crushed in my pocket?
Bleeding out, I barely managed to scale his electrified fence and crawl back into my oversized maid uniform just as he kicked my bedroom door off its hinges.
"Don't shoot! Please!"
I sobbed hysterically, perfectly masking my agonizing combat wound as sheer terror. As Apollo grabbed my collar, desperately searching for the assassin who had just fought him, he only saw a fragile, trembling girl. The hunt had just begun. My Stranger Husband Is A Hidden Zillionaire
Modern To escape my abusive adoptive mother selling me to a loan shark for $50,000, I rushed to City Hall to marry a blind date.
In a blind panic, I grabbed the wrong man.
He was Julian Cardenas IV, a billionaire CEO who desperately needed a fake wife to dodge a corporate arranged marriage. We signed the papers on the spot.
He became my legal shield. He moved me into his pristine penthouse and secretly protected me from my family's violent threats. When I broke down crying in the freezing cold, he quietly left me hot cocoa. For the first time in my life, I felt safe.
But then, Julian overheard me complaining to my sister about my constantly breaking-down car, groaning that I had to "get rid of this baby four times."
He thought I meant abortions.
The man who was slowly melting my frozen heart instantly turned to ice. He threw away the dinner he had specially bought for me, his eyes filled with absolute disgust and blinding rage.
I was left entirely confused and terrified. Why did my savior suddenly look at me like I was the most repulsive thing in the world? What had I done to deserve this sudden cruelty?
I thought this fake marriage was my ticket out of hell. I didn't realize I had just locked myself in a cage with a furious, ruthless CEO who now wanted to destroy me. Blizzard Betrayal, Phoenix Revenge Rises
Modern For ten years, I was the family pariah, framed for a crime that destroyed my brother's career.
My husband, Mark, never believed my innocence. Instead, he fell for the lies of my sister-in-law, Elsa-the woman who orchestrated my downfall.
On our tenth anniversary, he stood me up to celebrate with her and our daughter. When I finally confronted him with divorce papers, he threw me out into a blizzard.
My own daughter looked at me with cold, dismissive eyes.
"Elsa said she should have been my mom."
Left to freeze on the side of the road, my heart didn't just break; it turned to ash. The decade of abuse had finally killed every last bit of love I had.
But I didn't die. A stranger saved me, and with his help, I found the one piece of evidence I needed to burn their world to the ground.
Now, at the divorce settlement, I look at their smug faces and press play on a hidden recorder. "The world will soon know exactly who owes whom." Six Years A Ghost, Now Real
Modern My world shattered when I found the text on my husband's phone, revealing his year-long affair.
But the deepest cut came from my eight-year-old son. He defended the other woman, Kallie, telling me, "Kallie says you're being selfish and you don't understand Dad."
When I confronted them, my husband called me a liar about the baby I was secretly carrying. He had me beaten and publicly shamed at a party while our son watched, screaming that I was ugly and that Kallie should be his new mom.
They took everything from me-my home, my dignity, and the love of my child. I was nothing to them but an obstacle.
So, with the secret help of my mother-in-law, I faked my death. For six years, I was a ghost. I built a new life, a new family, and found a peace I never thought possible.
Until the day my ex-husband and the son who betrayed me walked into my bakery, determined to reclaim a family they had already destroyed. Love's Ashes, A Bitter Price
Romance The world saw my husband, Kaden, as a tragic hero, honor-bound to me while his heart belonged to his childhood sweetheart, Cali. I believed it too, willing to endure the pain for his sake.
On our anniversary, he came home with her. He didn't just ignore the special dinner I'd made; he grabbed the tablecloth and sent our entire anniversary meal crashing to the floor in a deafening shatter of crystal and porcelain.
He pinned me against the wall, his kiss brutal, whispering that hurting me was how he tortured her.
This became our life. He gave her a replica of my late mother's most precious gift. On the anniversary of our first baby's death, he left me grieving to comfort Cali because her cat had died. When he returned, he threw the tiny booties I had knitted for our son into the fire.
I lost another pregnancy—twins this time. In the hospital, he abandoned me to go play tennis with her because she was bored.
The final straw was when Cali scattered our twins' ashes to the wind. He saw my pain, heard my screams, and defended her.
"Unintentional harm is not a crime, Joyce," he said.
In that moment, the woman he knew as Joyce died. I took the pills that would erase her forever, allowing me—Iris—to take control. The Philanthropist's Daughter, The Traitor's Wife
Modern Five years ago, my parents, philanthropists who lost everything in a financial crisis, were framed for fraud and died with their names destroyed. My fiancé, Jaydan Beasley, was my only light, my savior, defying everyone to stand by me.
Today, I spent my last twenty dollars on roses for him, celebrating our love, unaware that the man I adored was systematically stealing my life's work-a social impact project meant to redeem my family's name-and funneling it to his old flame, Cuba Dawson.
I overheard him, his voice chillingly unfamiliar, confessing his deceit to his best friend. He called me "fragile," "trusting," a "charity case," and revealed our entire marriage was a calculated strategy to pave the way for Cuba's success. The roses slipped from my hand, my world shattering.
He had meticulously planned to discard me once Cuba's company went public, leaving me with nothing, again. The man I thought was my protector was, in fact, my destroyer, turning my milestones into markers of his betrayal.
The love I felt curdled into a cold, hard rage. He had taken everything-my family's name, my work, my love. But he had no idea who he was dealing with. I would make them pay. I would take it all back. Marrying My Rival, Finding Forever
Romance My phone rang for the tenth time. It was Olivia. The woman I was supposed to marry in thirty minutes.
"Liam needs me," she said, distant and thin. "He fell during a stunt on set. The doctor said it' s serious."
This wasn' t new. It was always Liam. Two months ago, she left our engagement party for him. Last month, she skipped our final wedding planner meeting for him. Each time, I forgave her, telling myself her heart was too kind.
"So that' s it?" My voice was dangerously calm. "You' re choosing him over me. On our wedding day."
"You' re making me choose. It' s not fair," she accused. "I thought you loved me. I thought you would support me." She hung up before I could respond.
Humiliation washed over me, hot and suffocating. My mother' s worried voice reached me, asking where I was. Something inside me snapped.
With a roar of pure rage, I hurled my phone against the wall. It shattered like broken promises. I kicked over a table, sending white lilies crashing. Then, a reckless, insane idea formed. I pulled over, grabbed my spare phone, and dialed a number I knew by heart. "Chloe Adams," I said, my voice steady. "Marry me. Right now." The Price of Quiet Happiness
Billionaires I married Mark Davis to escape the predetermined life of a tech heiress, seeking something simple and real with a man I believed gentle and devoted. For three years, he was the perfect stay-at-home husband, and I thought I' d found my quiet happiness.
Then the doorbell rang.
Standing on my porch was Mark' s mother, Brenda, and a gaggle of women, their eyes greedy as they demanded I wash Brenda' s feet as a "sign of respect" and to learn "how to be a proper wife."
When I refused, she slapped me, triggering an onslaught of physical and verbal abuse, accusing me of being barren, ungrateful, and a "freeloader" while touting Mark as a self-made millionaire. They attempted to force-feed me a live toad as a fertility cure.
The humiliation deepened when Mark, on speakerphone, not only confirmed their delusions of his success but called me a "gold-digging leech" and a "pathetic, desperate woman," telling his family not to "go easy on her."
His betrayal snapped something inside me, igniting a cold fury as I realized the depths of his calculated deception.
Just as they were about to inflict more violence, my father, Mr. Thompson, burst through the door, bodyguards in tow. A Debt of Love, A Family's Curse
Horror We moved into a new house in August, a fresh start my dad called the American dream.
Bigger house, two-car garage-everything seemed perfect, a step up for our family.
Then, the shelf in the garage collapsed, crushing Grandma' s precious altar, the one she' d used for protection for years.
Soon after, my uncle Bob died in a freak car accident, and then I fell violently ill with a fever no doctor could break.
I was lucid enough to hear my parents whisper about something wrong, something unnatural.
Lying there, burning up, I heard voices, saw things no one else could, arguing with an invisible presence that seemed to cling to me.
Mom desperately sought out a strange old woman, Mrs. Albright, who claimed to understand what was happening.
She told us it wasn't me that was sick; it was our new house.
She said we had broken an ancient pact, angered a hungry entity by discarding Grandma's altar and a carved wooden box.
My pragmatic father, who believed only in logic and reason, was forced to confront the impossible: Mrs. Albright knew everything, details we hadn' t shared, about the altar, the box, and the feeling that something was watching us.
How could she know?
What ancient bargain had my family made, and why was it now demanding payment?
There was no denying it now; the world had shifted, and we were trapped in a nightmare of our own making.
"Find the box," she rasped, her unsettling pale eyes fixed on me, "and make an offering, or it will take another one of you." My Grief, His Masterpiece
Romance The phone buzzed, a relentless vibration I tried to ignore, but Sarah' s furious face on the video call told me I couldn' t.
My artist husband, Ethan, had unveiled his new exhibition, "Raw Truths," a brutal public dissection of our dead marriage.
The centerpiece? A twenty-foot-tall projection of me sleeping, mouth open, drooling.
The internet exploded, half calling him a monster, half calling me a willing muse.
Then I scrolled to the next piece: a distorted loop of my voice, crying after a fight, packaged and sold as art. My phone buzzed again, Ethan' s name on the caller ID. Sarah, my lawyer, ordered me not to answer, but a primal urge to understand the "why" gripped me.
He told me he' d made art, groundbreaking art. I screamed that he was selling my tears, my private grief, for fame.
His response? This backlash was hurting his career. Then came the real dagger: he' d bring my devout grandmother into this, expose our secret marriage, destroy her if I didn' t release a public apology calling myself a willing collaborator.
My world shattered. How could he? How could he use my deepest fear against me?
Before I could even process his threat, my aunt called, sobbing.
Grandma had collapsed, she' d seen something on the news. It was too late. He had already destroyed the last innocent part of my life.
Lying in the hospital, my grandmother gone, I watched Ethan on TV, publicly mourning, accepting accolades.
He had taken everything.
My peace, my privacy, my family.
A cold, hard resolve settled in my chest.
If the world wanted a tragic muse, I' d give them a tragedy they' d never forget.
I would erase myself from his world completely. Too Late, My King: She's The Champion Now
Romance I was Elara Vance, a reclusive artist who found her only solace in the vast VR world of Aethelgard, playing as my plain, unnoticeable avatar, Nightshade.
For three loyal years, I was Soulbound to ApexKing, the game's golden boy and a real-life CEO, faithfully by his side despite the brutal forum mockery of our mismatched appearance.
But then, a new star, SugarRush, burst onto the scene, brazenly stealing my old, anonymous art identity, "HoneyDew."
On our three-year anniversary, in a public spectacle before the entire server, ApexKing shamelessly gave the rare "Twinflame" set I'd painstakingly crafted for him to her, before callously dissolving our bond and calling me a "placeholder."
The humiliation intensified as he branded me a guild thief, placing a massive real-money bounty on my head, turning every player against me.
My carefully guarded anonymity shattered when Tiffany Bellwether, SugarRush herself, doxxed my real identity and sent thugs to threaten me.
Hunted relentlessly in-game and stalked in reality, my world imploded.
How could the man who' d once sworn "against the world" with me believe every calculated lie from a gold-digging impersonator, dismissing three years of unwavering loyalty?
The injustice boiled, leaving a raw, festering wound, and a single, burning question: why me?
But rock bottom ignited a cold, dangerous fury.
I refused to be a victim any longer.
When a powerful, enigmatic rogue, RiverWraith, mysteriously offered his protection, I knew it was time to step out of the shadows.
I would expose Tiffany' s fraud, clear Nightshade' s name, and reclaim every piece of my stolen life. You might like
The Unwanted Wife's Flawless Spectacular Comeback
Hansiain Finley-moise For four years, Ellyn was the scarred, despised wife of billionaire Baron Hudson, enduring his cruelty with silent devotion.
But one night, after brutally forcing himself on her, he threw divorce papers at her bruised chest.
"Did you really think I could ever stomach looking at that hideous face of yours for the rest of my life?"
He kicked her out into the freezing rain because his flawless true love, Christine, was finally coming home.
To ensure Ellyn suffered, Baron froze all her bank accounts, wanting her to starve on the streets until she begged for his mercy.
Penniless and shivering in a rundown apartment, Ellyn discovered she was pregnant with his child, right as the news broadcasted him lovingly welcoming Christine at the airport.
Her heart died completely. She had given him ten years of her life, only to be thrown away like garbage.
But a shocking miracle happened: the intimate trauma had somehow triggered a biological cure, completely peeling away the ugly scar that had ruined her face for twenty years.
If the ruthless Hudson family found out she was healed and carrying the heir, they would steal her baby and destroy her.
Instead of taking his five-million-dollar hush money, Ellyn tore the contract to pieces, hid her newly flawless face, and vanished to Paris.
Four years later, the Hudson family's grand banquet was brought to a dead halt by a stunning, untouchable woman in a red trench coat and her genius three-year-old son.
Ellyn was back, and she wasn't the ugly duckling anymore. The Jilted Heiress's Ruthless Billionaire Revenge
Gray Matter For five years, I abandoned my status as the heiress of the powerful Montgomery family to play the role of a poor, submissive housewife for Barrett.
Then, a bank notification popped up on my phone. Barrett had forged my digital signature and transferred our entire $50 million joint trust fund to a woman named Crista Reid.
When I called his boardroom to confront him, he humiliated me in front of a dozen Wall Street executives.
"Stop acting like a hysterical housewife. You're living in a penthouse I pay for, so don't embarrass yourself."
I broke into his encrypted laptop and uncovered the sickening truth. Crista was his mistress, and they had a five-year-old son together.
Barrett hadn't just stolen my money; he had spent years painting me as a helpless charity case he rescued, completely erasing the fact that my financial models built his entire company.
He thought I was just a discarded peasant he could manipulate, cheat on, and replace. He truly believed he held absolute power over my life.
He had no idea that I still possessed the highest security clearance of the Montgomery empire.
I pulled an old BlackBerry from a hidden wall compartment, plugged it in, and dialed my family's lawyer.
"Draft the prenup for Commodore Clayton IV," I ordered, choosing to marry Wall Street's most ruthless predator. "I'm done playing the peasant." Sir, She's Gone With Their Daughter And Never Returns
Leanora Tanouye My four-year-old daughter was dying of leukemia, waiting desperately for a bone marrow transplant.
I begged my billionaire husband to just call the registry or visit her, but he claimed he was too busy with board meetings to care.
Until the hospital informed me that my daughter's life-saving bone marrow had been suddenly reallocated to another patient.
When I walked down the VIP hallway, I found my husband.
He wasn't at a board meeting. He was gently peeling an apple, playing the loving father to his widowed mistress's daughter.
When my pale, sick daughter called out for him, he instinctively stepped back in disgust.
I later discovered the mistress had bribed the hospital to swap the registry numbers, stealing my daughter's marrow for her own child.
When I demanded a divorce, my husband laughed in my face.
"You haven't worked a day in four years. You're a purchased asset. You don't get to walk away."
He threatened to freeze my accounts, assuming I would be starving on the streets and begging to come back.
His family and the mistress publicly mocked my background, waiting for me to be utterly humiliated.
They thought I was just a useless, penniless housewife who relied entirely on his last name to survive.
They didn't know I never needed a single cent of his money.
I packed my bags, took my daughter, and made a single phone call.
Three days later, at his family's elite banquet, my husband waited to see me beg.
Instead, the most powerful corporate magnate in North America walked right past him, bowed to me at a perfect ninety-degree angle, and spoke.
"Welcome back to the throne, Madam." The Jilted Wife's Spectacular Billionaire Comeback
Zhi Yao For ten years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to my wealthy husband, managing his severe OCD and hosting flawless high-society parties.
But on our tenth anniversary, when I brought him his special hangover soup, I caught him sleeping with my younger sister in our master bedroom.
Instead of panicking, he coldly handed me divorce papers with zero assets. He told me I was just a "placeholder" until my sister finished her degree and was ready to take my spot.
Desperate, I called my mother for help, only to find out she had known about their affair for years.
"You don't have Jana's drive or her looks. You clean house and you cook. That's not a wife, that's a domestic."
My own mother sneered at me, telling me to walk away quietly because our family needed his financial support.
They kicked me out of the penthouse with nothing but a suitcase, laughing that a woman who hadn't worked in a decade would end up begging on the streets.
I bled for this family for ten years, only to be thrown away like garbage when my sister wanted my life.
But they didn't know that while I was playing the boring housewife, I had secretly earned a Cordon Bleu diploma, a Cornell nutrition certification, and a Columbia master's degree.
Using a hidden photo to blackmail a property out of him, I packed my elite credentials and landed a $300,000-a-year job managing a billionaire's estate.
When my ex-husband drunkenly called days later demanding I come back to serve him, I calmly hit block. The Divorced Genius Wife Returns For Revenge
Xiao Ye Sloane Sinclair-Carlisle died in a fiery car crash, only to wake up in the weak, broken body of a girl named Nina White.
Before she could process her rebirth, a torrent of tragic memories flooded her mind. Nina had written the genius code that saved her husband Doug's tech company from bankruptcy.
But instead of gratitude, Doug stole her life's work, presented the billion-dollar algorithm as his own, and drove the desperate girl to swallow a bottle of sleeping pills.
"Nina, I swear to God, if you don't open this door in one minute, I'm kicking it down! I don't have time for your drama!"
Doug was pounding on the door, aggressively demanding she sign the divorce papers so he could marry his high-school sweetheart.
Downstairs, his mother and sister casually sipped tea, mocking Nina as a worthless beggar who was finally being thrown out.
They were celebrating their impending wealth, fully believing they could just erase her and leave her with absolutely nothing.
They thought they had completely crushed a timid, helpless victim.
They had no idea the soul now inhabiting this body belonged to a cold, unforgiving predator.
Sloane threw away the suicide note, put on a bold red dress, and decisively signed the net-zero divorce agreement.
She slapped the papers in front of her arrogant ex-husband and walked out into the night, ready to build her own empire and watch his stolen company burn to the ground. My Accidental Billionaire husband
Favor V April They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, mine didn't.
I came back with a marriage certificate bearing a stranger's name, a ring worth more than my parents' love ever was, and a son whose father I've never seen, never known, never remembered.
I went to Vegas for a racing competition. I won. I celebrated. And somewhere between the victory and the sunrise, my life changed forever.
For six years, I've lived with the consequences of one reckless night. I built an empire. I raised my son. And I searched for the man who changed my life without even knowing it.
Then fate laughed in my face.
My sister married my ex-fiancé-the man I was promised to since childhood. The man I was supposed to become Mrs. Windsor for. The man who now wears my family name... and looks far too much like my child.
Every time I'm near him, the past presses closer. Every glance feels like a question I'm terrified to ask. I shouldn't notice him. I shouldn't feel anything. He is my sister's husband.
But some secrets refuse to stay buried.
Because the truth about Vegas isn't just in the ring on my finger or the child in my arms.
It's standing right in front of me.
And when it finally comes out, it won't just destroy a marriage, it will burn an empire to the ground.
From Prison To Power: Rise Of The War Goddess
Black Knight Scarlett Hayes thought marrying James Whitmore would finally make her family see her as more than a burden.
Instead, it destroyed her life.
Framed for crimes she didn't commit, betrayed by the people she trusted most, and sentenced to prison while pregnant, Scarlett lost everything in a single night.
Then came the cruelest blow of all.
After giving birth in chains, she was told her baby had died.
The people responsible believed she would spend the rest of her life rotting behind bars.
They were wrong.
Five years later, Scarlett returns.
No longer the discarded daughter of the Hayes family. No longer the broken woman they left behind.
Now she is Commander Scarlett Hayes-a decorated war hero, the unseen force behind a global intelligence empire, and a woman powerful enough to make governments tremble.
She comes back for one reason only: revenge.
Her ex-husband, the stepsister who stole her life, and the family who buried her alive are about to learn exactly what happens when a woman with nothing left to lose takes back everything they stole.
But as Scarlett tears through the secrets of her past, one truth threatens to change everything-
the child she mourned for years may not be dead.
And the mysterious man connected to the night that changed her life has been watching from the shadows all along. Reborn As The Billionaire's Wife：The Despised Wife Shines On Live TV
Bing Caratozzolo Cecile jolted awake from months of prescription haze, only to realize she was trapped in a live reality show designed to destroy her.
Her billionaire husband had orchestrated the broadcast to publicly humiliate her and elevate his own PR image. He ordered her to follow a degrading script. What was worse, her five-year-old son, Damien, was genuinely terrified of her. When an empty wine bottle rolled across the floor, the tiny boy instantly threw his arms over his head, bracing for a hit.
The production crew shoved microphones into the trembling child's face, trying to trigger his trauma for ratings. The live chat cursed Cecile as a toxic abuser. The show's golden girl maliciously tried to poach Damien on camera to prove Cecile was an unfit mother. The crew even rigged the game, forcing Cecile and her son into a freezing, rotting mud shack with a collapsed roof. They were all just waiting for her to break down and beg.
"A toxic woman like you doesn't deserve to be a mother."
The crew read the hateful comments aloud, expecting a hysterical meltdown. The realization that she had been manipulated into destroying her own child hit Cecile like a physical blow. How could a father subject his own son to this public cruelty?
The weak, easily manipulated Cecile was dead. She threw the PR script away, rolled up her sleeves, and picked up a rusted hammer. This time, she would protect her son and tear down anyone who stood in her way. Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle
Natala O'neal To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle - the most formidable man Kevin fears.
After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms.
"You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive.
Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street - elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it.
When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her?
All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss.
When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply.
"Call her Aunt." 
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