Ai Huo
13 Published Stories
Ai Huo's Books and Stories
Unexpected Comeback Of The Discarded Orphan
Billionaires I was taken from a filthy Nevada orphanage by the wealthy Tillman family and treated like a stray dog for ten years.
When their company faced bankruptcy, my adoptive parents demanded I marry a known degenerate to pay off their debts, just so their precious biological daughter wouldn't have to.
When I refused, my adoptive mother cut off all my bank accounts and kicked me out into a freezing thunderstorm.
"Walk out that door and you will starve in the gutter where you belong!" she screamed.
My fake sister mocked my lack of a background, and later, the family even posted photos online to frame me as a disgusting sugar baby to ruin my life.
They thought I was just a helpless, worthless orphan who owed them everything.
They didn't know the only reason I endured their abuse was to investigate the orphanage fire that burned ten of my friends alive, a tragedy their elite circles helped cover up.
I didn't beg for their mercy or cry in the rain.
Instead, I got into a bulletproof black SUV waiting in the storm.
It was time to shed the pathetic orphan disguise, cure the paralyzed king of the underworld, and burn the Tillman family's perfect facade to the ground. The Day My Love Shattered
Modern My fiancé, Keith, was supposed to pick me up from the airport after my two-week solo trip. Instead, I was stranded alone in the rain, abandoned for his "fragile" protégé, Kandice.
He claimed car trouble, but a single phone call revealed the truth: he was at a party, celebrating with her.
Then came the text from Kandice-a selfie of her on his lap, captioned: "Don't worry, Dr. Blackburn is all mine tonight! "
Moments later, a text from Keith: "Sorry, sweetheart. Car trouble. Had to drop Kandice off first. I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't wait up."
The blatant contradiction, the years of his gaslighting and emotional abuse, finally shattered something inside me. He had spent three years making me feel small, insecure, and crazy, always prioritizing Kandice's manufactured drama over my well-being.
I used to think love meant enduring his cruelty, but standing there, soaked and betrayed, I realized my love had its limits.
So, I made a call. "Mr. Davies," I said, my voice steady. "About that five-year overseas assignment in London. I'd like to accept." A Healer's Second Chance At Life
Modern My husband told me his true love, Francesca, was dying. As a master healer, I was the only one who could save her. For months, he drained my life force in daily rituals, leaving me a hollow shell of myself.
Then he demanded the ultimate sacrifice: a forbidden ceremony that would transfer my entire life force to her. It was a death sentence.
"It means Francesca lives," he said, his eyes empty of the love he once had for me.
He shattered the wooden bird he carved for our anniversary, forced me to sign divorce papers, and promised to remarry me after I died for his fantasy.
Finally, he tied me to an altar and set it on fire.
As I burned, my four-year-old daughter screamed the truth-that Francesca was faking her illness. But Kane pushed her away, choosing his lie over our lives. He watched me die.
But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day he first told me Francesca was sick. This time, the only life I'll be saving is my own. Love's Fierce, Patient Embrace
Werewolf On our third mating anniversary, I prepared a feast. For three years, my Alpha husband, Mark, had treated me like I was made of glass, using my "fragile" constitution as an excuse for his coldness. Still, I hoped tonight he would finally see me.
But he came home smelling of another she-wolf, took one look at the anniversary dinner I'd poured my soul into, lied about an urgent pack meeting, and walked out.
Days later, he demanded I attend the annual Gala to present a "united front." On the way, he took a call from her, his voice dripping with a tenderness he never gave me.
"Don't worry, Sarah, I'm on my way," he said. "Your ovulation cycle is paramount. I love you."
The three words he'd never said to me. He slammed on the brakes, shifted into his massive wolf form, and abandoned me on a dark, rain-swept road to run to her.
I stumbled out into the storm, my heart finally shattered. I wasn't his mate. I was a placeholder, a prop to be discarded when his true love called.
Just as I wished the rain would wash me away, headlights cut through the darkness. A car screeched to a halt inches from me. Out stepped an Alpha whose raw power made my husband seem like a child. His piercing silver eyes locked on mine as a possessive growl rumbled deep in his chest.
He looked at me as if he'd found the center of his universe and uttered a single, life-altering word.
"Mine." My Heart, His Cruelty
Romance The phone buzzed frantically during my board meeting. It was my mother, her voice a shredded mess, whispering, "He's here. At the university. He's making us..." before the line went dead.
"He" was Gustav Bradford, the man I loved, the man who was destroying me.
I raced to Westwood University to find my parents on their knees, humiliated, with Gustav standing over them, beautiful and terrifying, beside his therapist, Estelle Strong.
Estelle, his new everything, whispered lies about my parents disrespecting them, while my father, a man who debated world leaders, bowed his head in shame. My mother sobled silently as a drone live-streamed their humiliation.
When I confronted him, Gustav, with a chilling smile, ordered his guard to break my father's leg.
A sickening crack echoed, followed by my father's agonizing scream. Then, my mother's. They both lay broken. The love I had for Gustav shattered, replaced by a cold, vast emptiness.
"I will kill you," I whispered, the words tasting like poison. He just smiled, kissed my cheek, and left, telling me he'd be home for dinner.
That night, my parents, in a desperate act to free me, took their own lives.
My scream was soundless. I called Amit, my friend, for the drug that would make me look dead.
I had to die to live, and I had to live to see Gustav Bradford burn. Love's Deception, A Fortune's Rebirth
Modern The plan was simple: two weeks of quiet solitude at my apartment, a much-needed break from the relentless grind of my architecture career.
But the moment I unlocked the door, a cloying, unfamiliar perfume assaulted my senses, followed by the sight of a stranger lounging on my custom velvet sofa, nonchalantly filing her nails.
"Can I help you?" she drawled, dripping with disdain, as I stood dumbfounded in the doorway of my own home, apartment 3B.
This woman, Tiffany Stone, introduced herself as my brother Liam' s new girlfriend, claiming this was "Liam's place," scoffing at my very career and dismissing my deeply personal space as a mere "graduation present" for a girl who "drew buildings."
The audacity escalated swiftly. Tiffany and her mother, Mrs. Stone-a woman cloaked in fur and radiating venom-informed me they were "redecorating" my apartment and expected me to find a hotel. My cherished minimalist decor and art prints had vanished, replaced by gaudy, tasteless clutter.
When I tried to reach my bedroom, where my personal safe contained the deed to the apartment, they physically blocked my path, declaring, "It's not your room anymore. It's our guest room." My own family, my own brother, seemed to be orchestrating this hostile takeover.
The situation spiraled into a nightmare; a physical altercation broke out, leaving me bruised and bleeding, yet they accused me of assault.
The building manager, Mr. Davis, shockingly sided with them, presenting falsified records to claim the apartment belonged to Liam.
Then Liam himself arrived, not as a rescuer, but as the architect of my downfall, embracing Tiffany, feigning concern, and publicly humiliating me. He flatly stated he had transferred the deed to his name and then, with a chilling smile, proposed to essentially sell me off to a business associate.
Every accusation, every betrayal, shattered my reality. He even revealed I was adopted, not truly a Reed, trying to strip away my entire identity. But in that moment, as I lay on the floor, a cold clarity crystallized. He had given me a weapon.
I seized my T-square, shattered a mirror in a defiant act, and ran, finally breaking free to call for help.
From the depths of betrayal, armed with undeniable evidence from a hidden camera and a desperate revelation that Liam, not I, was the adopted one, I watched as Liam, Tiffany, her mother, and the building manager were arrested, their carefully constructed lies crumbling on national television.
This was not just about reclaiming an apartment. It was about rebuilding a legacy, reshaping my family's future, and redefining my own purpose. From Gold-Digger to Queen
Romance My wedding day. The most beautiful day of my life, or so I thought. I stood at the altar, beaming in my white dress, ready to marry Liam Maxwell, the man I loved.
Then, the whispers began. Not of happiness, but of scandal. My fiancé, the love of my life, had rushed off to a rooftop, not to save me, but his "childhood friend," Olivia Chen, who was threatening to jump.
He returned with her, fragile and apologetic, yet she wore a white dress eerily similar to mine. I was humiliated, sidelined in my own fairytale, as Liam asked me to postpone our wedding for her sake, for his reputation.
But this wasn't the first time. In a nightmarish vision, I witnessed our future: a gilded cage, a forced miscarriage after his careless shove, and my agonizing death, alone and abandoned. He had orchestrated my public downfall, framing me as a gold-digger and a villain, while he and Olivia cemented their twisted bond.
The pain of that future, the betrayal and the loss, was too real to ignore. It wasn't a dream; it was a warning.
Now, as Liam stood before me, expecting my compliant understanding, I knew I had a second chance. The naive fiancée was gone. This time, I wouldn't just survive; I would make him pay. One-Cut Queen
Young Adult My name is Eli Vance, and in my world, everything has a price.
I lived in a small, sagging house that perpetually smelled of stale beer and disappointment, a stark contrast to the academic potential I desperately cultivated.
Every cent I secretly earned from doing other kids' homework was a deliberate step away from a future my parents had already planned for me: a grueling factory job.
My younger brother, Cody, was their sole focus, their "lottery ticket," and his mediocre athletic career consumed every last ounce of their hope and meager funds.
Then, one evening, they finally showed me attention-enough to deliver their verdict.
"You're sixteen now," my father grunted, avoiding my gaze.
"The plant is hiring full-time," my mother chimed in, her voice sharp, "You can quit school. We need the money for Cody's gear and his camp fees."
My heart turned into a cold, hard stone in my chest as their words extinguished my last flickering hope for a different life.
"What do you have? Books?" my mother sneered, dismissing my intelligence, my ambition, everything I was.
My father sealed it with a flat gaze: "You'll do what you're told," effectively erasing my future to fund a pair of football cleats.
The suffocating injustice burned a hole within me-this town, this school, my own family; it was all the same oppressive system.
They saw me as a burden, a cost, a ready-made sacrifice, but I refused to accept that.
How could they demand I relinquish my education, my only path to escape, for a futile dream that wasn't even mine?
I couldn't fight my parents head-on, not yet, but watching the cafeteria manager's blatant favoritism, I knew exactly how to break a smaller, visible cog in this unfair machine.
The battle for my freedom, and my future, had just begun-a ruthless, calculated game where I would stop at nothing to change the rules. His Cruelest Sunny
Romance To save my family's vineyard and my sister, I, Ava Hayes, agreed to marry Ethan Reed, my childhood friend turned enemy.
I hid a terminal illness silently consuming me.
It wasn't a marriage; it was a public humiliation.
At a lavish gala, Ethan announced his engagement to another, introducing me as his "desperate offering," a mocking "trophy."
Trapped, I became his property, enduring relentless physical and emotional abuse, worsened by my secret illness and his fiancée Chloe's sadistic torments.
Yet, I heard Ethan's inner thoughts-conflicted, sometimes tender, a secret lifeline that broke when his accidental blow severed our connection.
Then came the crushing truth: my own family had conspired in my mother's murder and abandoned me to die by withholding funds for my treatment.
Critically ill and with my last hope gone, Chloe abducted me.
She revealed her family's involvement in my mother's death, then cruelly forced an abortion, ending my life and our unborn child's.
My body vanished, my memory erased.
But what will Ethan do when the horrifying truth of my death and the child lost, finally surfaces? A Brewing Betrayal
Modern Daisy' s memorial service was a haze, the thick lily scent a painful echo of my little girl, gone.
I stood a hollow shell, while my wife, Casey, seemed eerily calm, almost serene.
Then I overheard her chilling confession: she' d authorized an "unproven" treatment that "hastened" our daughter' s death.
My blood ran cold.
She dismissed Daisy' s complex care as "draining," before reconnecting with her old flame, Ethan Holloway.
Days later, she callously planned to convert Daisy's vibrant room into her new home office.
I found Ethan lounging in my living room, Casey laughing with him, more animated than I' d seen her in years.
"It's my parents' house, Alex!" she snapped when I confronted her, mocking my award-winning brewery as a "hobby."
Her family had already frozen our accounts, accusing me of financial mismanagement.
Now, Ethan and Casey were trying to steal my revolutionary brewing process-my life's invention, meant for our family's legacy.
The betrayal was absolute, desecrating Daisy's memory and everything we built.
How could the woman I loved not only hasten our daughter' s end but then brutally disrespect her memory, seemingly conspiring to ruin me?
My marriage was shattered, but my spirit was not.
I vowed that day to leave the wreckage, launching "Daisy Chain Brews" with my secret patents.
This wasn't just for me; it was for Daisy. When Love Erased Me!
Romance I stood outside our bedroom door, the cool wood pressed to my forehead. My wife, Victoria, was inside, her voice low and urgent. "Liam, stop it. He could be home any minute." Liam. My paralegal. I froze when I heard his next words: "He needs to know you're not some broodmare, Vicky. That pregnancy scare? You told me you almost panicked." Pregnancy scare? She told me she miscarried months ago, blaming my stress. My heart turned to stone.
The betrayal deepened with every new piece of evidence. My phone buzzed with anonymous photos: Victoria, laughing, Liam' s arm around her. Then came a video: Victoria, in lingerie I' d never seen, playfully fanning Liam with my inscribed first-edition Gatsby. "He' ll never know," Liam' s voice sneered. "He' s too wrapped up in his dusty old books to notice anything." Victoria giggled, "He's sweet, but so predictable." Then the ultimate blow: Liam proposing "a little Walker," and Victoria' s chilling, calculating smile as she agreed to fake illness to conceal it.
I felt nothing but a vast, cold emptiness. The woman I married, the one I truly loved, was a complete stranger. She was a manipulative stranger, plotting a future behind my back, mocking me with my own heartfelt gifts. How could she be so utterly cruel? How could I have been so blindly naive?
A small, cool chime sounded in my mind, a sensation only I could perceive: The Legacy. My mother' s deathbed words echoed: "One time, Ethan. A clean break. If you ever need it." I needed it now, more than anything. I watched as my hands began to flicker, growing faintly transparent. The erasure had begun. I was ready to disappear. Eight Years To Forever
Romance I, Ava Miller, an architect, spent eight years with Ethan Hayes, though our shared life felt built on shifting sand. He constantly chipped at my confidence, yet I clung to the hope of 'us'.
At a New York charity auction, Ethan bought my grandmother's unique sapphire pendant. My stomach plummeted as he publicly presented "my" heirloom to his young intern, Chloe Vance, then whispered, I'd get "something new."
His words were a gut punch. A video soon showed him boasting he'd propose to Chloe. He did, at a party, using my sapphire, crudely reset, branding me "strong" while asserting Chloe "needed him." Post-confrontation, he replaced the damaged stone with a worthless glass replica, convinced I wouldn't notice. His manipulations peaked when he dragged me into Chloe's staged suicide attempt at the ER, ditching me bleeding to chase her drama while caught with her lipstick on his face.
Eight years of my life, systematically cheapened and discarded for his brazen, theatrical lies. The audacity, the disgusting manipulation, his absolute lack of remorse – it was suffocating. How had I been so blind?
But the script truly flipped. Abandoned again at the ER, one name cut through the noise: Julian Thorne. The man who, years ago, unexpectedly offered, "Ditch the zero. Marry me." My shaking hand steadied as I called. "Is that offer still on the table?" I whispered. A liberating breath. "Okay. Yes." San Francisco was my final destination. I was coming. You might like
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. 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." Signed The Papers: Watch Me Shine Now
Fritz Heaney For six years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to billionaire Hartwell Ware, enduring his coldness because I thought my love could eventually thaw his heart.
Then, my friend sent me a photo. Hartwell was at the airport, tenderly holding the waist of his first love, Eveline Craig.
He came home smelling of her synthetic rose perfume, accused me of stalking him, and coldly demanded a divorce.
His lawyer handed me a thick settlement agreement. It offered astronomical alimony and luxury properties, but it came with a humiliating ten-page non-disclosure agreement.
He wanted to buy my silence. He wanted to strip me of my rights to our son and gag me permanently, just so he could parade his new life with Eveline without any PR backlash.
Even now, he still thought I was a gold digger who had orchestrated a media scandal to trap him into marriage.
I stared at the man I had worshipped for two thousand days. My six years of desperate devotion had been nothing but a humiliating, one-sided delusion.
Hope was finally dead, and with it, my tears had completely dried up.
He expected me to cry, to beg, to negotiate for more millions.
Instead, I snatched the pen, crossed out the massive alimony, and signed my name on the dotted line.
"I am taking the basic child support, and not a single red cent more."
Leaving my five-carat diamond ring on the marble table, I walked out the door with nothing but my old suitcase. 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." 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.
Too Late For Regret: My Dead Heart
Catlaina Sloggett Rain lashed against the twisted metal as Hallie lay pinned in the wreckage of her car, her chest crushed and fading fast.
The paramedic found her phone and desperately dialed her husband, Aidan.
"Your wife has been in a severe car crash! We're losing her!" the paramedic shouted over the storm.
A harsh, mocking laugh came through the speaker.
"Tell her this is a pathetic way to stop the divorce," Aidan sneered. "I do not have time for her crazy games."
The line went dead, and Hallie's heart flatlined.
Separated from her body, Hallie's ghost was forced to witness the horrific aftermath of her own death.
Her mother refused to claim her corpse because there was no insurance payout, telling the hospital to throw her in a ditch.
Pulled back to her penthouse, she found Aidan gently holding her sister, Cecile.
Cecile sobbed about Hallie's "fake crash" in Aidan's arms, but the moment he looked away, a wicked smirk of victory spread across her face.
Cecile was the predator, and Aidan was her willing protector.
He even ordered Hallie's brilliant, life's-work sketchbook to be thrown into an industrial shredder, giving all her corporate resources to fund Cecile's debut.
Hovering in the cold air, Hallie watched her three years of devotion turn to ash.
She was treated like garbage, a mere stepping stone for her sister's rise.
But just as her soul turned to ice, Aidan's face suddenly grew paranoid.
"Check her medical records," Aidan ordered his assistant coldly. "Find out who is helping her fake this injury."
Hallie's invisible spirit shivered with a dark, vengeful anticipation.
What would her arrogant husband do when his relentless digging finally uncovered her cold, dead body? The Billionaire's Ugly Wife
Ximena West "I've warned you from the beginning. Don't marry him, but you won't listen." Darcy stood close to me and smiled with concern. "You're not a woman worthy of a man as handsome, rich, smart, and virile as Blaze."
My whole body trembled at her words. "Have you no shame?" I asked.
"Take a good look at yourself, Heather." She stared at me in the mirror. "You can't even glance at your ugly face. Do you think Blaze can endure a lifetime of gazing at that scar?"
Heather Bailey got a surprise from her husband: a divorce agreement. After a year of marriage and facing ups and downs, she couldn't believe Blaze intended to divorce her. She was devastated when she saw him gazing lovingly at another woman.
After signing the divorce papers, shockwaves caught her up. Her flower shop was burned to the ground. Her father's company collapsed, and her parents blamed her.
She struggled to rebuild her life from the ground up and became more successful than ever. Having many customers from influential families, she started her revenge on Blaze. She won the very thing he wanted, but that was just the beginning. 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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