Barclay Hsu
14 Published Stories
Barclay Hsu's Books and Stories
His Faked Death, Her Real Grief
Romance I woke up, reborn into my transactional marriage with Amelia, flooded with agonizing memories of my past life – how I, Ethan Miller, shamefully used her, flaunted an affair, and never saw her fierce, hidden love until my dying breath.
This time, I vowed to right every wrong, to love her as she truly deserved.
But my chance at atonement shattered when Amelia, my chillingly cold wife, threatened my parents' retirement savings.
She forced my mother, Sarah, to undergo a dangerous bone marrow transplant for Julian Vance, her beloved artist, leaving me locked away, utterly helpless.
After Julian's surgery, Amelia's calculated cruelty escalated into a nightmare.
She flaunted Julian, mocked my every attempt at change, deliberately poisoned me, and then subjected me to brutal "re-education" – electroshock, scalding my hand with boiling water.
When Julian framed me for her grandfather's injury, Amelia' s chilling rage turned into an unimaginable ordeal, culminating in her threatening my innocent parents' lives, dangling them over a dangerous precipice.
How could this be the same woman who died fighting for me?
The Amelia I' d come back to cherish, whose love I desperately wanted to earn, had become a terrifying stranger, a monstrous tormentor. Was she reborn too, driven by past pain, or had she simply become pure evil?
As the horrifying truth of her unadulterated hatred dawned on me, and my parents' lives hung in the balance, my vow of atonement dissolved.
There was only one way out, one final act of self-preservation: I had to fake my own death, vanish, and ensure Amelia believed I was gone forever. His Unwanted Wife Is Another Man's Treasure
Mafia The exact moment Marcus Thorne, the most violent Capo on the East Coast, chose to leave our anniversary dinner to answer his mistress's call, I didn't cry.
"Business," he rumbled, ignoring the untouched meal I had cooked.
"Don't cause a scene, Ellie," he commanded before walking out the door.
I later found out his "business" was a polo match with Izzy. She posted a photo of them laughing, her hand on his chest, wearing the shirt I bought him.
When I tried to leave, he humiliated me publicly. He kissed her on stage at a gala, just to prove he could. He told his men I was merely acting out.
"Ellie is the furniture," he laughed. "You don't throw away antique furniture just because you bought a new TV."
But the final blow came when a bomb detonated at a family gathering.
Marcus didn't look for me. He dove to cover Izzy with his body.
He actually stepped over my bleeding leg to carry her to safety, leaving me in the dust and debris.
He thought I was trapped. He thought I was dependent on his money and his name. He thought I would be waiting at home when he was done playing hero.
He was wrong.
I signed the divorce papers, destroyed my wedding ring, and boarded a one-way flight to Italy.
Three months later, when he finally tracked me down in Tuscany, he fell to his knees in the street, begging me to come back.
But I just held the hand of the man standing next to me—a man who treated me like a partner, not a prop.
"You are trespassing," I said coldly.
"Go home, Marcus." The Billionaire's Cruelest Lesson
Romance Everyone in the city said I was the luckiest woman alive. I was the diner waitress who saved the amnesiac tech billionaire, Hudson Scott. He fell in love with me, and when his memory returned, he married me against his family's wishes, telling the world I was his one true love.
But that was a lie. The man I loved vanished the day the billionaire came back. In his place was a possessive monster who saw me as a possession, and he had just found a new obsession: an artist named Ginger.
That’s when the punishments began. Tonight, because Ginger claimed I’d glared at her, he dragged me to a derelict warehouse. My sick mother was tied to a chair, surrounded by open cans of gasoline.
He flicked a lighter open, giving me ten seconds to confess to a lie. The man who once worked odd jobs to buy her medicine was now threatening to burn her alive because another woman cried.
But it was all a sick performance. Just as he tossed the lighter and flames erupted, his men dragged my mother to safety. “See what happens when you’re not a good girl?” he whispered, before leaving with Ginger.
As I carried my mother out of that hellhole, I made a call to a number I hadn't used in years.
“Cason? I need your help. I need to disappear.”
This time, his world would be the one going up in flames. Shattered Promises, New Beginnings
Romance My fiancé, Liam, and my brother, Ethan, both fell for the same woman, Chloe. One day, Liam was the man I was going to marry. The next, he looked at me like a stranger.
At our engagement party, Liam was an hour late. Then, a picture surfaced of him and Chloe eloping. My world crashed down.
To make things worse, Chloe, bandage-clad and tearful, dramatically entered, claiming Liam pushed her. Liam and Ethan, completely taken in, turned on me. "It was Ava," whispered Chloe, and Liam shoved me, causing me to fall and hit my head, bleeding on the floor. My own brother stood over them, his back to me.
Two days later, Liam and Chloe showed up, accusing me of my own assault, the man I loved defending the woman who had just lied about me. They were convinced I was the villain, while Chloe was the damsel.
I was hospitalized days later with a ruptured appendix, but when I called Ethan, he coldly dismissed me, saying I was "being dramatic," too busy bringing Chloe breakfast. The hospital informed me that my own brother had disowned me.
How could two men I loved and trusted so completely be so blind, so cruel? How could my brother abandon me, his only sister, for a woman he'd barely known?
I survived. I gathered the last of my strength and resolve. I decided then and there that I wouldn't just disappear; I would rebuild myself, piece by painful piece, into someone they wouldn't recognize, and they would live with the consequences of their betrayal forever. The Betrayed Wife's Sweet Revenge
Romance The heavy iron gate groaned open, and I stepped out, expecting freedom.
After a year inside, I longed for my fiancé, Liam, and our son, Noah.
But the drive home to our familiar house revealed a chilling transformation: the paint was wrong, my rose bushes were gone.
Then Mrs. Gable, our neighbor, delivered the first blow:
"Liam has had his hands full, you know. It was a blessing he had Sarah to help him, especially with her being pregnant and all."
Sarah. My brother' s widow. Pregnant. My heart seized.
The key didn' t fit, but the door was unlocked.
Inside, my home was alien-cold, modern, bare of our memories.
And then I saw it: a baby' s playpen, a high chair. Not ours.
Creeping to the back patio, I saw Liam, his arm around Sarah, her hand on a very pregnant belly. They looked like a perfect family. My perfect family.
Then their words:
"Are you sure she won' t cause any trouble? She' s supposed to get out this week."
"Don' t you worry about Olivia. I know her. She' s loyal to a fault. She took the fall for us once, she' s not going to make waves now. She knows her place."
Us. The word twisted in my gut.
The truth hit me: Liam hadn' t made a mistake. Sarah had falsified the architectural plans. They had conspired.
Liam had begged me to take the blame, promising a future, swearing he' d wait. I believed him. I sacrificed a year, my reputation, my career, for a monstrous lie.
The betrayal shattered my heart, but beneath the pain, a cold, hard anger ignited.
They thought I was broken, a loyal fool.
They were about to learn how wrong they were. From Betrayal To Billions: Her Return
Modern The last thing I remembered was the cold, unforgiving pavement rushing up to meet me.
A screech of tires, a flash of headlights, and then a profound, empty silence.
My life, a cascade of public humiliation and private despair, was over.
It all started at the fashion show, the one where my former best friend, Chloe, stood on the runway, wearing a dress that was a near-perfect copy of my signature design.
My own design.
Chloe' s powerful family painted me as a jealous, unstable wannabe.
My revered mentor turned his back on me.
Then Mark, my fiancé, delivered the final blow, breaking our engagement, calling me a failure.
I lost everything: my reputation, my love, my financial stability.
My death was a footnote in a story that was no longer mine.
How could I have been so naive, so blind?
How could they have moved so ruthlessly to destroy me, to steal everything I had?
The crushing loneliness, the descent into poverty and obscurity, all culminating on that dark, wet street.
Then, a sharp, disorienting pull.
I gasped, my eyes flying open.
I was sitting in the front row of the annual Laurent Gala, my hands smooth, my dress my own design.
On stage, Chloe was bowing, wearing the stolen dress.
It was the night my life had spiraled into ruin.
I was back.
I had been given a second chance.
Not this time. The Cuckold's Revelation
Romance My flight home felt endless, a week away from my pregnant wife, Emily, feeling like a year.
I pictured her glowing, her smile lighting up the house, ready to welcome me back.
But the moment I walked through the door, my world began to fracture.
The house was eerily silent, a strange smell in the air, and an overflowing trash can spoke of neglect.
Then, Emily' s weak voice called from upstairs, her face pale and clammy, clutching her stomach in pain.
At the hospital, a doctor' s cryptic words about "strenuous activity" and needing to be "gentle" left me bewildered, a knot of unease tightening in my chest.
I brushed it off, attributing it to stress, clinging to the flimsy explanation when I found a strange bruise on her collarbone-one she vaguely claimed was from clumsiness.
But the flimsy facade shattered when I found cigarette ash in our master bathroom sink.
I don't smoke, and Emily despises it, making her flimsy explanation about her stepfather stopping by ring hollow.
My mother-in-law later confirmed my stepfather-in-law quit smoking years ago, sealing the growing dread in my stomach.
Then, my own mother mentioned a new white sedan Emily was seen getting out of, driven by a man-a car I certainly hadn't bought.
The pieces clicked into a terrifying mosaic: the doctor' s warning, the bruise, the ash, the unknown man, the mysterious car.
But nothing prepared me for the final blow at the doctor' s follow-up: "The fetus is measuring closer to twelve weeks, Mr. Davis."
Twelve weeks.
A full month older than it should be, a month when I was working fourteen-hour days, thousands of miles away.
My world imploded.
The doctor wasn't accusing me; he was warning me about her affair.
The baby wasn't mine.
My wife had cheated, and the life I thought we had built was a cruel, elaborate lie.
The man who was supposed to be a father was now the biggest fool.
I was a cuckold.
And I was going to find out everything. A Genius's Desperate Play
Young Adult My MIT scholarship was locked, courtesy of a national coding competition. My future was set.
But then I overheard a conversation in the high school computer lab, one that shattered my quiet certainty.
Jenny, my childhood best friend, and her powerful "Syndicate" gang-the police chief's kid, the judge's daughter-were planning to cheat on the upcoming AP exams, using stolen data from Jenny's cousin. They found me, and everything changed.
They threatened my father' s life-saving transplant, my mother' s safety, everything I held dear. With their parents controlling this town, I had no one to turn to.
They forced me to decrypt the stolen files, to create the perfect answer keys, then Jenny deliberately smeared my fingerprints all over the USB drive. "Insurance," she called it. A perfect frame.
So, I did the only thing I could. I walked into the SAT, held up that incriminating drive, and publicly confessed to a crime I didn' t commit, a crime so big it had to be federal.
I watched my MIT dream vanish. I saw the rage in Agent Morris' s eyes, the pity in my guidance counselor's, and the raw despair on my mother' s face as I admitted guilt.
Why would I sacrifice everything-my future, my reputation, my family' s hope-for a ludicrous hack I didn't even do? Why would I burn down my own life and confess to a story so absurd, it made me sound insane?
Because I wasn't just confessing. I was setting a trap. And they were about to walk right into it. The Sergeant Major's Surprise Bride
Romance My father' s eyes always gleamed when he spoke of the family pact.
Whichever daughter got the higher SAT scores and into a prestigious university would marry Mark Johnson, the town' s golden boy.
The loser would marry David Wilson, a rumored delinquent from the poorer side of town. This wasn't just a family discussion; this was a replay.
In my first life, I was the smart one. I got the top scores, the prestigious university acceptance. I married Mark, lived in a beautiful house. But "golden boy" Mark turned into a monster.
After my sister Jessica, forced to marry David, died of an overdose, Mark blamed me. He became cruel, then violent.
When I was pregnant with his child, he pushed me from our balcony.
"If you hadn't rigged the scores, Jessica would be alive!" he' d screamed, his face twisted. Then darkness.
I remember the fall, the pain, the utter betrayal. My perfect life had been a terrifying lie. Killed by the man I married, carrying his child. How could a dream turn into such a brutal nightmare?
But then I was back. Living it all again. This time, I remembered everything. This time, I would not repeat the past. This time, I would not marry Mark Johnson. Even if it meant marrying the outcast, David Wilson. A Mother's Sacrifice, A Billionaire's Game
Romance For three years, I, Sarah Miller, poured my heart into my relationship with Ethan Hayes, believing we were a team facing his mounting debts and recent job loss from a struggling tech startup.
My loving mother, Mary, despite her own battle with severe emphysema, tirelessly worked extra shifts and sacrificed her precious few savings to help us.
In a final, heartbreaking act of selfless devotion, Mary even cashed out her life insurance policy, giving every last penny-$60,000-to Ethan to settle his financial woes, just days before she tragically succumbed to her illness.
Her dying wish was for me to use that money to help Ethan, to ensure his future, to be happy.
But at my administrative job, a subsidiary of a company called Innovate Solutions, a conversation overheard from a conference room plunged my world into a nightmare: Ethan was a "tech scion," talking about the "Hayes fortune" and a "test" of my loyalty.
He wasn't broke; he was a multi-billionaire CEO, and his fabricated poverty was a cruel, elaborate psychological experiment.
My mother's agonizing death, her ultimate sacrifice, had been nothing more than a pawn in his sick game.
Every act of kindness, every sacrifice we made for him, was a lie.
How could the man I loved, the man my mother gave her very life for, be such a manipulative monster?
Overwhelmed by grief and a betrayal so profound it choked me, I refused his fake explanations and lavish offers.
I walked out of his opulent office, resigned from my job, and cut every tie, determined to find a future free from his monstrous deceit. The Heiress They Left to Drown
Modern My life was a perfectly curated display: a philanthropic heiress, a devoted husband, and annual galas that outwardly celebrated our unwavering love.
But beneath the glittering facade, I stumbled upon a chilling truth: my charming husband Julian and my beautiful sister Liv were not just having a secret affair, but meticulously plotting to strip me of my family's fortune, revealing our entire marriage was a calculated lie, designed solely to gain control of my inherited shares.
Julian had always prioritized Liv, abandoning me during my health crisis or fleeing to her side whenever she summoned him, yet nothing prepared me for the night my sister Liv maliciously shoved me into our estate' s ornamental pond.
As I struggled to breathe, watching my heavy gown pull me under the shockingly cold water, I saw my husband, my father, and even my college sweetheart all swim past me without a glance, their sole focus on rescuing Liv, who theatrically thrashed and feigned distress in the shallow end.
I was left to sink, utterly and completely abandoned.
My entire life, it seemed, I' d been the overlooked second choice: my parents showered Liv with affection, my first love chose her vivacity over my quiet nature, and now my husband, the man who had promised unwavering devotion, had merely used me as a pawn for her ambition.
How could every single person I ever trusted consistently choose her over me, again and again?
As the dark water enveloped me, a strange, profound peace solidified my resolve: the suffocating, theatrical performance of my past life was finally over.
I would burn down every painful lie, completely erase Ava Chen, and painstakingly sculpt a new identity, a new life, a true sanctuary where I was the main character, never just an afterthought in someone else's story. The Wedding Day Abandonment
Romance My wedding was set to be the picture of perfection.
I stood at the altar, my best man beside me, surrounded by white roses and loved ones, our song just minutes from playing.
Then, Chloe's maid of honor rushed towards me, face ashen, uttering words that shattered my world: "Ethan, she’s not coming."
Chloe had abandoned our wedding, our future, for Damien—her perpetually 'struggling' ex who always needed 'saving.'
My disbelief turned to cold dread when I found them: Damien lounging comfortably, beer in hand, while Chloe justified prioritizing his 'panic attack' over our vows.
The humiliation intensified when I later discovered she’d secretly drained twenty thousand dollars from our joint savings, the down payment for our future home, all for him.
Five years of my life, my steadfast loyalty, my love—reduced to a manipulative game.
The sheer audacity of her betrayal, the calculated deceit, left me reeling, questioning every moment we shared.
How could the woman I loved so completely throw it all away for a pathetic, freeloading ex-boyfriend?
But from the ashes of my broken heart, a cold resolve formed: I would completely sever ties and reclaim my life, unknowingly paving the way for a shocking confrontation with Damien and a chance encounter that promised to reset everything. Awakening: Sculpting My Destiny
Romance Upon awakening, I realized that the movie star boyfriend in front of me, who was begging me not to break up, would eventually lead to my tragic death on the streets for the sake of the innocent female lead. So, after he was put on ice, I decisively accepted the pursuit of the CEO. Within a year, the CEO transformed me from an unknown nobody into a popular movie queen. At the awards ceremony, I was surprised to see Pei Ze, who had made a comeback, as the award presenter. When a reporter asked him, "Do you have any encouraging words for the actress Jiang?" Pei Ze sneered, "Work harder on President Lu's bed," or "Just crawl back to my bed." You might like
Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. Flash Marriage To The Alpha Colonel
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. Too Late, Mr. CEO: Watch Me Shine
Nieves Gómez Kayla stood outside the CEO suite, holding a custom suit for her fiancé, Brennon. They had spent seven years building a tech company from a freezing garage into a billion-dollar empire.
But through the cracked door, she heard the breathy laugh of Evelin, the newly hired director. Then came Brennon's low, careless voice.
"The wedding's a PR milestone for the IPO, nothing more."
Kayla's blood turned to ice.
"She's comfortable. Makes sense on paper," Brennon continued. "But you, Evelin. You understand ambition."
The betrayal hit her like a physical blow. She had written the core code that made him a billionaire. She had stayed up until 4 AM debugging while he slept on a futon. Now, he was mocking their relationship to his mistress and handing over her life's work to a woman who couldn't even read a data log.
Seven years of loyalty, reduced to a PR stunt. She didn't cry. Instead, a cold, violent clarity washed over her. Why should she let him keep the crown she forged?
Without a word, she pulled the three-carat diamond off her finger and dropped it into her bag. She walked out of the building, drafted her resignation, and accepted a VP position at his biggest Wall Street rival. It was time to show Brennon what happened when the real genius behind his empire decided to tear it down. Broken Ring, Billionaire Secrets: Watch Me Shine
Cornelia I sat on the edge of the examination table, the crinkle of the sanitary paper sounding like thunder in the sterile room. The doctor didn't even look at me as he confirmed the news: the pregnancy was over. My husband, Keyon, didn't answer my call. He just sent an automated text: "In a meeting."
When I returned to our cold mansion, I found his iPad glowing with a message from his "muse," Katina. He was throwing her a secret gala tonight-on our third wedding anniversary. He told her he couldn't wait to escape the "boring" and "draining" atmosphere I created at home.
Keyon didn't stumble in until 3 AM, smelling of Katina's perfume with a smear of red on his collar. When I handed him the divorce papers, he laughed in my face. He called me a "glorified housekeeper" with no skills and no future, promising I'd be back in three days begging for a subway ticket. He even bet his friends ten thousand dollars that I wouldn't survive a week without his name.
He had his assistant cancel my credit cards and block my gate access before I even reached the end of the driveway. He wanted me to starve. He wanted me to crawl. He sat in his office, mocking the "desperate" woman who pawned her three-million-dollar wedding ring for scrap metal just to pay for a meal.
I stood on the rainy curb, watching the man I had protected for three years treat my life like trash. He didn't know about the ultrasound I just threw in the bin. He didn't know that while he was calling me "dull," I was the one secretly writing the code that kept his billion-dollar empire from collapsing.
As I slid into a cheap Uber, I opened a hidden, encrypted app on my phone. The screen refreshed to a dashboard for an account Keyon didn't know existed. The balance was ten figures long-the accumulated wealth of "Solaris," the world's most elusive tech genius. Keyon thinks he just evicted a parasite, but he's about to find out he just declared war on the only person who can hit "delete" on his entire life. The Betrayed Heiress And Her Genius Comeback
I. HAWKINS I skipped my final lab review in Geneva and endured a fourteen-hour flight to surprise my husband for our fourth wedding anniversary.
Instead, looking through the window of our beachfront estate, I saw him playing the perfect, loving father to a "tragic widow's" daughter, kissing the widow with practiced, casual intimacy.
Fleeing in pure panic, I got into a horrific car crash.
Waking up in the VIP hospital room, I kept my eyes shut and heard my husband talking to his best friend right beside my bed.
"She's just a party girl who knows how to swipe a black card. I only play the part because I need her father's proxy vote for the IPO."
"Every time I have to touch her in bed, it feels like a corporate obligation. It makes me sick."
Later, even my own father demanded I step down from my company role and publicly welcome the mistress, just to protect the family's investment in the upcoming ten-billion-dollar IPO.
Four years of marriage and quiet humiliations, all reduced to a calculated lie. They all thought I was just a brainless, hysterical socialite who could be easily manipulated and discarded.
They didn't know that the core anti-aging algorithm his entire empire relied on was secretly built by me.
I calmly pulled out my phone and texted my divorce lawyer.
"I want him bankrupt. On the day his company rings the bell, I am going to burn his entire life to the ground." After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash
Sea Jet Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world.
In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief."
But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius.
Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be. 
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