Ace Trumper
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Ace Trumper's Books and Stories
Reborn: A Husband's Vengeance
Billionaires The sterile smell of the hospital room was the last thing I remembered.
Cancer had eaten away at me, my career crumbled, my fortune gone.
Then I saw them: my perfectly made-up wife, Sarah, and our sullen son, Billy, standing by my deathbed.
"Just sign the papers, Mark," she' d said, her voice devoid of warmth, talking about my last company shares for David' s "venture."
David. The man she' d been sleeping with for years, Billy' s biological father.
I remembered the fake charity events, the money diverted, my childhood home sold to cover his gambling debts.
I remembered how she' d helped my mother take her car to a "new mechanic," and how, as I lay dying, Sarah laughed, confessing to tampering with the brakes.
"She never liked me anyway," she' d whispered, her face inches from mine, "And Billy... Does he look anything like you? You pathetic idiot."
The monitor flatlined as Billy turned away in disgust and Sarah smiled, victorious.
My life had been a lie, a crushing weight of betrayal.
Then, I gasped.
The air was clean; I was in my living room, strong and healthy.
Across from me stood Sarah, looking exactly as she did ten years ago.
"Mark," she said, her voice sharp and final. "I want a divorce."
The words echoed. I was back at the starting point of my nightmare, but this time, I wasn't the naive husband.
I knew every detail of the fire, and a strange, shimmering number hovered above her head: [$8,150,432]. It was her net worth.
Then David walked in, and above his head glowed a stark, alarming red: [-$20,789,140].
I could see what people were worth. I was reborn, armed with the truth, and this time, the ending would be different. Too Late For Regret: My Possessive Billionaire
Modern Ciara had just found out she was exactly six weeks pregnant. Overjoyed, she immediately dialed her billionaire husband, Alexzander, to share the news.
But before she could speak, a chaotic crash echoed through the phone, followed by his raw, panicked roar.
"Ellie, hold on!"
Stunned by his desperate tone for another woman, Ciara didn't notice the heavy medical cart hurtling towards her until it smashed into her body.
Covered in blood and clutching her cramping stomach in the emergency room, she fought to stay conscious.
Suddenly, Alexzander rushed past her stretcher. He was frantically carrying Elliana—the heiress he claimed was just a legal obligation.
He was so consumed with terror for Elliana that he didn't even glance down to see his own wife lying there, broken and bleeding.
When Ciara later demanded a divorce, he trapped her against the sofa, his eyes cold and calculating.
"Without my trust fund, you will lose everything. Are you truly prepared to throw away such privilege?"
For four years, Ciara had endured the mockery of high society, believing his cold demeanor hid a deep love for her.
But as she sat in their massive penthouse with a broken arm, she realized she might just be a cheap placeholder in his golden cage.
When he finally returned, swearing on his empire that Ciara and the baby were his only priorities, Ciara stopped fighting.
She stroked her stomach and accepted the truce.
But the naive, trusting wife was dead. She would stay, but the moment she caught him in another lie, there would be no more tears—only absolute destruction. The Price Of His Choice
Modern My husband Elliott and I were expecting our first child. Then his ex, Kenya, showed up, claiming she was dying and had his secret son. He chose her.
I watched him play happy family with her while I sat alone at our baby' s ultrasound. Later, her son pushed me so hard I nearly miscarried.
In the hospital, she sent me a picture of my late father' s locket, shattered, with a text saying Elliott called it "junk."
When I confronted her, Elliott violently threw me out of her room.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he roared. "She' s fragile!"
He was protecting the woman who tried to kill our baby, and calling me the monster.
He held me prisoner in our home, parading his new family in public while I was erased. He thought I was too weak to leave, that I' d just accept my new place.
The night of their lavish "Welcome Home" party, while the city celebrated his touching love story, I walked out the front door and never looked back. Beyond Broken: Finding Her Peace
Romance The headline screamed from the society page: CEO Michael Sterling' s Protégé, Chloe Davis, Flaunts Baby Bump. Five years of marriage, yearning for a child, shattered in an instant. Michael, my husband, promised it was a mistake, a drunken night he barely remembered. He knelt, he cried, he pleaded, and I, God help me, chose to believe him. He vanished Chloe Davis from our lives, and for three years, we were happy.
Then came the news of a riot, Michael unreachable. I flew halfway across the world, frantic, only to find him in a quiet suburb, holding a child with his dark hair and blue eyes, another clinging to his leg. Standing beside him, heavily pregnant again, was Chloe Davis, looking at him with adoration as he smiled a truly happy smile I hadn' t seen in years.
He saw me, his smile vanishing. On the silent ride back, he told me to accept them. His heirs. And since I couldn't give him a child, Chloe would come home, posing as a nanny. My hand instinctively went to my purse, clutching the pregnancy test I' d taken that morning-two pink lines, a miracle I' d been waiting to share. I snapped it in two; he didn' t even ask what it was.
At the private terminal, Chloe, feigning terror, shrieked I was trying to harm her and her children. Without explanation, Michael slapped me hard. I stumbled, fell, and felt a warm wetness spread beneath me. Blood. "Michael," I choked, "the baby…our baby…please, help me." He sneered, "You' re pathetic, Olivia. There is no baby." He turned his back, leading his perfect family away, leaving me bleeding on the airport floor.
In the hospital, he brought Chloe, ensuring she got the best care, accusing me of faking for attention. When I hemorrhaged, he panicked, but the final blow came when Chloe staged another fall, crying I' d hit her. Michael, already enraged, punched me in the stomach. An explosion of pain, and then, the last bit of warmth left my body. My baby was gone. He had killed it. But what about all the years I' d sacrificed for him, including my first child and my mother? Her Vengeance, His Broken Heart
Modern They called me Liam Miller, the luckiest man in New York City.
My son, Leo, was the center of my universe, and my wife, Sarah, seemed to worship us both.
Our perfect life shattered one rainy day on the highway, a blinding flash of light, twisting metal, and then, nothing.
I woke to the sterile whiteness of a hospital room, a rhythmic beep the only sound, Sarah by my side, her face pale, her grip tight.
"Leo," I rasped, the word a physical wrench from my raw throat. "Where' s Leo? I need to see my son."
Her face crumpled as she squeezed my hand, "There was an accident. He… he lost too much blood, honey. He died at the scene."
The world spun into a gray vortex; panic choked me, then, mercifully, blackness.
The next time I woke, I heard voices near the door-Sarah and the attending doctor.
"Ms. Jenkins, your son could have been saved, but why did you…?"
Sarah' s response was chilling, utterly devoid of emotion, "Liam Miller' s son, from the day he was born, was meant to save Alex' s daughter."
Alex? The name struck me as foreign, out of place.
"If he lived," Sarah continued, her voice like ice, "how could I legitimately take his organs? I' ve supported Liam and his son for years; now it' s their turn to repay me."
The words struck harder than the truck, poisoning every memory, every cherished moment.
The private island, the Fortress of Solitude – all a lie, a calculated investment, my son a resource, his life a debt she had come to collect.
The grief didn't vanish; it transformed into a cold, hard resolve.
My body was broken, but my mind had never been clearer.
She wanted repayment? Fine.
I would give her what she wanted. From Blame to Beloved
Romance I'm going to die soon.
That thought wasn't sad, just a simple fact as I called a late-night radio show, dedicating a song to my husband, Liam.
Liam Hayes, the man who saw me only as a constant reminder of the car crash five years ago, the one that put his ex-girlfriend, Chloe, in a coma and left me severely injured.
He blamed me, never outright, but in every cold glance, every clipped word, every night he spent at her hospital bedside instead of home with me, his wife.
When Chloe miraculously woke, he seized the opportunity, serving me divorce papers right there, in her hospital room, in front of her triumphant face, sealing my fate.
And Chloe's cruel revenge didn't stop there; she was setting my mother's home ablaze when she died in a police chase, and Liam, consumed by grief, still chose to believe her lies, accusing me of murder.
Even from my hospital bed, dying from a mysterious illness that was a direct result of that initial crash, my love for him was so absolute I took the blame, confessing to a crime I didn't commit, just to protect my mother and salvage the last shred of his peace.
But now, years later, a miracle returns Liam to the day before our wedding, haunted by the future he unknowingly destroyed, armed with the truth, and a burning desire for a second chance. His Penance, Her Peace: The Quiet Atonement
Modern The day my son, Leo, was born, my $50,000 life savings, carefully scraped together since I aged out of foster care, vanished.
My boyfriend, Ethan, Leo' s father, convinced me to transfer every penny for his "European residency," a supposed investment in our future.
Hours after Leo' s birth, hormonal and exhausted, I foolishly gave him my nest egg, believing his promises of a brighter tomorrow for our new family.
But then, Leo was diagnosed with a rare genetic disorder, needing immediate, experimental treatment costing hundreds of thousands.
When I begged Ethan for the money back, his handsome face twisted with contempt, claiming it was "invested" and gone.
He scoffed, accused me of trying to "trap him financially," then threw the few hundred dollars he had at me, humiliating me in front of our landlord.
After our son tragically died in my arms in a public hospital, I found Ethan celebrating, buying an expensive sculpture with a wealthy old flame.
That' s when I overheard the sickening truth: my love, my life, my son's existence, had all been a twisted, cruel bet to him.
What kind of monster would gamble with a new mother' s love and a baby' s life?
Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, he kicked me, slamming me against a table, sending Leo' s fragile ashes spilling across the floor.
That very kick stole my ability to ever have another child, leaving me with nothing but the dust of my son and a searing rage.
Broken but alive, I eventually built a new life, found true love, and against all odds, conceived a new child.
But the real question is, what became of the man who took everything from me, and can true redemption ever be found after such monstrous betrayals? The Billionaire's Stolen Bride
Billionaires Ava Thompson flew back to San Francisco from rural Montana, ready to pick up her life where it left off five years ago.
Her top priority: finalizing her wedding to Ethan Sterling, the scion of a powerful tech empire.
Their union was the next logical step, a pre-planned event, fully approved by her Senator parents.
But at the opulent wedding planner' s office, a chilling truth shattered her world.
Ms. Albright, beaming professionally, casually mentioned, "We planned his wedding… to Ava Thompson. The Senator' s daughter. It was three months ago."
Ethan Sterling was already married, to an imposter using Ava' s exact name and identity.
When Ava confronted him at his Silicon Valley mansion, he dismissed her without a second thought.
Through an intercom, the man she loved declared, "I don' t know what she' s talking about. She' s probably just some deluded fan. Get rid of her."
The words "deluded fan" hit Ava like a physical blow, stripping her of dignity, her identity, and her future.
She stared at the gate, her fiancé denying her very existence, cold and dismissive.
How could this happen? How could someone simply take her life, and the man she was supposed to marry betray her so completely?
But as humiliation threatened to overwhelm her, a cold fire ignited deep within.
If Ethan Sterling had decided she didn' t exist, she would make sure he felt her existence.
And she would make him pay for every lie, every stolen moment, every penny an impostor spent in her name.
Starting now. They Broke Her, I Broke Them
Horror My twin sister, Olivia, lay terrifyingly still in a hospital bed, her pale face a stark contrast to the sterile white sheets.
An IV dripped fluid into her arm, and chillingly, thick bandages covered her wrists, a silent testament to her desperate act.
She had tried to end her life, driven to the brink by the relentless, sophisticated cruelty of Brittany and her followers at Northwood High School.
Their audacious arrival at the hospital, complete with smirks and chilling taunts, twisted the knife deeper into our family' s raw wound.
My parents, Mr. and Mrs. Peterson, stood helpless, their attempts to rid us of the tormentors dismissed with scornful indifference.
When the police finally arrived, their response was infuriatingly inadequate: a dismissive "warning" for minors, prioritizing Brittany' s influential family over Olivia' s shattered life.
Then, the ultimate humiliation struck: a raw, brutal video of Olivia's locker room torment, her clothes torn and her pleas mocked by Brittany's cruel laughter, exploded across social media.
My fragile sister, seeing it, whispered that she was "so weak," her spirit visibly drained from her eyes.
A mere warning for such psychological torture, for driving my twin to attempt suicide, was a grotesque joke in their broken system.
But a familiar darkness, a dormant, predatory instinct I had suppressed for years for Olivia' s sake, began to stir within me.
Olivia had always been my anchor, soothing this other side, but now, she was the very reason to unleash it.
That night, I made a decision that would redefine everything: I was going to Northwood High.
They thought they knew Olivia Peterson – but they had no idea who was truly coming for them.
They had broken my other half; I would break them in return, and the Peterson family had unique ways of ensuring justice. Married To A Ghost: The Twin's Legacy
Romance My name is Sarah Vance; I'm an architect, happily married to Michael, and our childfree life was perfect.
Then, a call to my prestigious alma mater, Kingswood Academy, to help my cousin with admissions, shattered everything when the admissions officer claimed a six-year-old boy named Ethan Vance was registered as our son.
Michael vehemently denied it, blaming corporate sabotage, but my unease deepened, leading me to a Kingswood parents' orientation where I confronted a woman named Olivia, who then calmly asserted she was Michael' s wife and mother to Ethan, leaving me stunned in front of a judging crowd.
As Michael' s own sister, Chloe, and his powerful mother, Eleanor, publicly sided with Olivia, cruelly shaming me as unstable and barren, I stood there humiliated, frantically grasping at my shattered reality, wondering who this boy was and how my perfect life had become a catastrophic lie.
Just as despair threatened to consume me, Michael arrived, and witnessing his mother's cruelty, he finally roared the impossible truth: Olivia was his identical twin brother David' s widow, Ethan was David' s son, and Michael had been living a torturous double life to protect their family empire, forcing us to rebuild our lives from the ruins of a monumental deception. Her Father's Medal, Her Own War
Young Adult My life was finally looking up. The email glowed on my phone: "Congratulations, Sarah Miller!" – a full scholarship to a top university, my ticket out of our small town and a way to honor my parents' memory. My sister, Emily, who' d been my rock running our family diner, Miller' s Plate, since Mom and Dad passed, screamed with joy with me.
But our joy shattered when Mark Henderson, the spoiled son of the town's most powerful developer, swaggered into Miller's Plate. He and his thugs brutally assaulted Emily, leaving her broken and our diner in ruins, just because she refused to sell our land.
The nightmare deepened at the police station. Chief Williams, clearly in Art Henderson' s pocket, dismissed it as a "mutual altercation" and advised me to take their dirty money. Then, my scholarship was mysteriously rescinded, erasing my future. My home was savagely vandalized, and our beloved cat, Patches, was found dead, a cruel message pinned to his collar: "Next time, it' s you." Every lawyer turned me away, and our once-supportive neighbors, cowed by the Hendersons' influence, looked the other way.
I felt utterly crushed, alone against an empire of corruption and violence. My sister lay critical in the ICU, our home was a wreck, and they' d taken everything. What else was left for them to destroy?
Amidst the wreckage, I stumbled upon my late Marine father's old footlocker. Inside, I found his Medal of Honor. "Semper Fi," he used to say – Always Faithful. A desperate, impossible hope ignited: if the local system was broken, maybe his military family, General Peterson, could remind them what justice truly meant. I clutched the medal, buying a bus ticket to Camp Lejeune, ready for the fight of my 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. 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 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." 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. 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. 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.
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. I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Jessica C. Dolan 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. 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. Marrying My Ex's Powerful Billionaire Uncle
Yuan Xiluo On my wedding day, my fiancé Connor received an urgent phone call.
He told me a D-list actress had broken her leg on set, then abandoned me right at the altar.
In my past life, I cried until my throat bled, begging him not to leave.
But my tears only brought endless humiliation. My mother and adopted sister mocked me, framed me, and forged my signature to steal my multi-million dollar trust fund.
They kicked me out of the family estate without a single dime.
I ended up freezing to death in the minus-twenty-degree New York blizzard, listening to my mother's voicemail telling me to die in the street as long as I didn't bleed on her carpets.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why my own blood relatives hated me so much, yet treated an adopted daughter like a precious princess.
The only person who showed me any mercy—draping his wool coat over my frozen corpse and giving me a proper burial—was Connor's ruthless, untouchable uncle, Harding Snow.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in the bridal suite, right as Connor was rushing out the door.
This time, I didn't shed a single tear.
I let him run to his actress, then walked straight into the VIP room to face the most feared billionaire on Wall Street.
"The wedding proceeds as planned, but the groom's name changes to yours." 
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