Beatrice Wells
16 Published Stories
Beatrice Wells's Books and Stories
The Day I Vanished
Romance The doctor's words sealed Amelia Hayes's fate: aggressive, stage four ovarian cancer.
Consumed by overwhelming guilt for her best friend Liv's tragic death years ago, Amy numbly embraced the diagnosis as a deserved end, refusing treatment and signing away her organs.
Her penance wasn't over; Liv's grief-stricken brother, Ethan Carter, who viciously blamed Amy for his sister's demise, still dictated her every move.
He meticulously orchestrated her public humiliation, forcing her into back-breaking tasks and enduring his cruel fiancée's sadistic games, watching Amy weaken, every ounce of suffering a grim reminder of Liv's absence.
Amy accepted every degrading act, every physical pain, enduring it all as a desperate attempt to atone for her relentless survivor's guilt.
Yet, even as her body failed, the gnawing question lingered: was her self-destruction truly a sacrifice for Liv, or simply a prolonged, theatrical torment orchestrated by Ethan for his own twisted closure?
Finally, broken and desperate, Amy sought ultimate release, calling 911 from atop the George Washington Bridge, her final wish to donate her organs to give life even as hers ended.
But a secret ally pulled her back from the brink, allowing her to fake her own death and forge a new identity, unaware that her "demise" would drive Ethan, consumed by his own guilt and pain, to the verge of madness, setting the stage for an explosive, unforeseen reunion years later that would challenge everything they believed about love, hate, and forgiveness. Rejecting My Powerful Fated Alpha Mate
Werewolf I died once. Betrayed by my own cousin. Stabbed by the man I loved. And finished off with poisoned wine while my fated mate watched, believing I was the traitor.
But the Moon Goddess gave me a second chance.
I woke up in my own bed, twenty years old, with the scars of my first life burned into my soul-and seven days to stop the union that destroyed everything.
I was supposed to have time. Time to gather proof. Time to turn my grandmother against the vipers in our midst. Time to formally reject Alpha Gavin Carlisle before he could become my doom.
Then they arrived a week early.
Now I'm standing in my grandmother's council hall, wearing white like a declaration of war, refusing the Alpha's gifts and spinning lies about prophecies just to buy myself another breath. My cousin Karla watches my every move, hungry for my downfall. Her lover Jarrod circles like the predator he is, still thinking I'm the naive fool he once manipulated.
They have no idea.
I remember everything. Every whisper. Every knife in the dark. Every single player in the game that killed me.
And this time? I'm the one holding the blade.
My grandmother thinks I'm afraid of leaving home. The elders think I'm cursed. The Stonefang emissary thinks I'm a hysterical bride. But I know the truth: the real monsters are already inside these walls, and the Alpha who's supposed to be my enemy?
He's already crossed into my territory. Unannounced. Uninvited. And determined to claim me anyway.
Let him come.
I've already died once for trusting the wrong people. I've burned in the fires of their betrayal. And now I have three days to save my pack, expose the traitors, and rewrite a destiny that was never mine to begin with.
They wanted a victim.
They got a warrior.
"I would rather live my entire life alone and unmated than be the cause of so much death."
But I'm not alone. And this time, I'm not dying. Bleeding For A Lie: His Cruel Betrayal
Mafia For two years, I worked double shifts at a dingy laundromat, scrubbing blood out of suits until my hands were permanently raw. I starved myself to pay off a massive mafia debt my boyfriend, Dante, supposedly owed.
But one day, the city's untouchable Mafia Princess walked in and revealed the cruel truth. Dante was the billionaire Don himself, and my suffering was just a sick undercover game he played to test my loyalty.
Instead of ending the charade, Dante looked at me like I was invisible trash. He allowed his fiancée to frame me for theft, fired me, and forced me to kneel on the freezing concrete outside his headquarters.
When his fiancée stole my severance and sent rogue soldiers to destroy me, I frantically called him for help while coughing up blood.
"You are a degenerate gambler. Do not ever contact me again."
He hung up the phone, leaving me to be brutally assaulted by the monsters until my bones snapped.
Lying on my ruined floor, I couldn't understand how the man who used to whisper my name in the dark could be so merciless. I had bled my soul dry for him, only to be discarded like a liability.
With my spirit entirely shattered, I typed out one final message.
"If I die, will you regret it?"
I stepped out of the eighteenth-floor window and let the wind swallow me whole. I never expected that days later, the untouchable Don would find my hidden love letters, go completely mad with grief, and step off that exact same ledge. Too Late For Regret: His Ultimate Downfall
Modern I spent hours preparing a perfect anniversary dinner for my billionaire husband, Damien Sterling.
Instead of coming home, he appeared on a live broadcast, dropping $10 million on a diamond necklace for his first love, Isabel.
Before I could process the public humiliation, the hospital called to tell me my grandmother, my only family, had died of a massive hemorrhage.
The trigger was a visit from Isabel, who maliciously taunted her about our sham marriage and revealed Damien's company had wiped out her life savings.
When I confronted them with a voice recording of Isabel's cruelty, Damien violently snatched the device and wiped the evidence to protect her.
He even forced me to apologize when Isabel deliberately injured herself to frame me. I stared at him, completely disillusioned that he was blindly protecting a murderer who was actively selling his corporate secrets to his rivals.
The last shred of my affection for him shattered into dust.
Walking out of his manor, I calmly got into the sports car of his most ruthless enemy and made a deal.
"I want to see Isabel Goodwin in a prison cell, and I want his empire to burn." The Jilted Heiress Reclaims Her Throne
Romance Eleonora woke up in the hospital, still feeling the terrifying weightlessness of her own suicide.
She realized her chilling nightmare was actually a prophecy: she was destined to be the tragic, disposable villain, while her adopted sister Addisyn was the beloved protagonist.
On the day of her discharge, her father abandoned her to celebrate Addisyn's eighteenth birthday.
When Eleonora dragged her recovering body back to her family estate, she found her biometric access wiped and her home turned into a chaotic nightclub.
Addisyn had taken over the master bedroom and was wearing Eleonora's late mother's priceless sapphire necklace.
When Eleonora coldly demanded her property back, Addisyn squeezed out fake tears and played the pitiful victim.
Instantly, Eleonora's childhood fiancé and lifelong friends stepped up to shield Addisyn.
They scolded Eleonora for being cruel and classless, demanding she sleep in the guest room so she wouldn't ruin the party.
Downstairs, the elite guests mocked her as a crazy, jealous freak who was bullying her sweet sister.
In her nightmare, their blind devotion to this manipulative parasite had driven Eleonora to jump off a skyscraper.
She was the sole legal heir to the Carlisle estate, yet they expected her to quietly hand over her home, her mother's legacy, and her life to a thief.
But Eleonora was no longer a victim.
She pulled out the irrevocable trust documents, proving her absolute ownership, and looked at her loyal butler.
"Cut the power," she ordered coldly. "Throw every single trespasser out the gates." Forgotten Love, Unleashed Cold Revenge
Modern Sienna woke up in a hospital room, her body screaming from a severe car accident. Through the glass, a man paced with violent rage, a dark shadow she felt absolutely nothing for.
Her friend Julia burst in, eyes bloodshot, dropping a bomb: "He didn't even try to help you." Dante, Sienna's fiancé, had protected another woman, Valeria, in the crash, leaving Sienna to burn alive.
Her past life unspooled – seven years sacrificed, an architecture degree abandoned, all to serve Dante. Her phone was a shrine to him: his photos, his "taboos," and even "Valeria's preferences," with no trace of Sienna herself.
But amnesia brought no heartbreak, only a cold, calculating fury. She felt disgust for the "idiot" she'd been, stripped of dignity. The memory loss was a release, a blank slate.
With chilling resolve, Sienna deleted every trace of Dante. Ripping out her IV, she declared, "The wedding proceeds." Not for love, but as a weapon: "I need to take back everything that belongs to me before I disappear." Defying The Ruthless Billionaire Heir
Billionaires Johana walked half a mile through a brutal blizzard just to secure a tutoring job with the elite Black family.
But the very night she was hired, she received a terrifying call from the ER—her quiet roommate, Hazelle, had been drugged and severely traumatized at a Hamptons party.
When Johana rushed to the hospital, she didn't find the police. Instead, she found a team of ruthless billionaires erasing the crime.
Leading them was Dalton Black, the cold, arrogant older brother of her new student.
Within minutes, Dalton's fixers wiped the hospital's security footage, deleted all digital evidence, and forcefully transferred Hazelle to a locked private psychiatric facility.
"We are ensuring her privacy."
Dalton's voice was devoid of emotion, treating the horrific assault like a minor PR glitch.
His friends mocked Johana's powerlessness, while Dalton authorized a blank check to pay for the private ward, effectively burying the scandal and buying their silence.
Johana stood in the sterile hallway, trembling with a mix of despair and absolute rage.
How could they destroy an innocent girl's life and simply pay to make it disappear? Why was the truth so easily erased by money?
She had no wealth, no connections, and no proof, but she refused to be a victim of their cover-up.
Staring directly into Dalton's intimidating, icy blue eyes, Johana made a vow.
"I don't want your money. I will find out what you monsters did to her."
She thought the billionaire heir would crush her on the spot, but instead, he watched her walk away and quietly ordered his assistant: "Find out everything about Johana Neal." The Billionaire's Genius Wife's Ultimate Cold Revenge
Modern My five-year-old daughter was turning blue in my arms, her body rigid with a 104-degree fever. I called my billionaire husband, Clifton, dozens of times as I rushed to the hospital, but he declined every single call.
While I was screaming at doctors and fighting to save our child’s life, a news alert flashed on my phone. Clifton was at the Met Gala, looking devastatingly handsome as he intimately draped his tuxedo jacket over the shoulders of his mistress, Eleanora.
The nightmare didn't end at the hospital. Clifton used a secret clause in our prenup to snatch Lily from her bed and move her to a private facility without my consent. When I finally found her, my own daughter shrank away from me in terror. "Go away, bad Mommy!" she sobbed, while the mistress fed her oatmeal and whispered that I was the one who made the doctors hurt her.
Clifton stood by and watched, telling me I was too "hysterical" to be a mother. But then I discovered the real reason they were hiding her. My husband was illegally using my late mother’s rare bone marrow samples to treat Eleanora’s secret blood disorder. Now that those samples are failing, he is taking Lily to a secluded castle in Germany to harvest our daughter’s marrow for his mistress.
I sat in the dark, watching them play happy family with the child they plan to sacrifice. I realized then that my marriage wasn't just a lie—it was a biological harvest. They think I’m just a broken trophy wife who doesn't understand the science they are using to destroy me.
They have no idea that I am "Ghost," the anonymous medical genius behind the very research they are trying to steal. As we board the private jet to Germany, I’ve stopped crying and started calculating. If they want to play with life and death, I’ll show them exactly what happens when a mother stops being a victim and starts being a predator. Not Just An Incubator: The Ex-Wife's Cold Revenge
Modern Ten minutes. That was how close I was to handing my fiancé the keys to a three-hundred-million-dollar empire built on my code.
But when I walked into the office, his mistress was sitting in my chair, spinning the pen I bought him for our anniversary.
Caleb didn't even look up. He told me the investors wanted stability, not a pregnant woman. He called our unborn child a "liability" and ordered security to escort me out of the building I paid for.
I went home to pack, only to find a burner phone hidden in the closet. The texts were brutal. He called me an "incubator." He said once the deal was signed, he’d take the baby and dump the "nerd."
When he caught me with the phone, he didn't apologize. He dragged me by my hair and threw me into the soundproof panic room to keep me quiet until the deal closed.
"Caleb, please! I'm bleeding!"
I pounded on the steel door until my hands were raw. But he just locked it and went to eat pizza with his mistress.
Alone in the dark, on the freezing concrete, I felt the life inside me slip away. He hadn't just stolen my company; he had killed my child.
He thought I was broken. He thought I was just "the help." But he forgot one thing: I built the security system he was trying to sell.
Three days later, I rolled my wheelchair into his victory press conference, flanked by his biggest rival.
"Do you trust your new code, Caleb?"
"Because I wrote the backdoor. And I just opened it." Our Marriage: A Twisted Revenge
Modern My husband, Aiden, brought his mistress to a gala. She was carrying my clutch bag, a gift from him. He was laughing, daring me to make a scene.
But the ultimate cruelty wasn't the affair. It was when he brought up my kidnapping from ten years ago, using my deepest trauma as a weapon to publicly shame me.
His mistress, Ember, piled on, her voice dripping with false pity.
"Oh, Julia, I just can't imagine what you went through. Aiden told me everything. How you were… so damaged."
I suddenly realized who she was: the daughter of the man who had orchestrated my kidnapping. This wasn't just an affair; it was a long-con revenge plot to destroy the company I had sacrificed everything to save.
Aiden, the man who once swore to protect me, was her willing pawn. His cruelty had already cost me our unborn child years ago.
In that moment, the last bit of love I had for him turned to ice. He thought he was breaking me.
He had no idea he was just handing me the keys to his destruction. Rising From Ash: The Mafia Queen Returns
Romance To my husband, I was just a political bridge, a treaty with a heartbeat.
While I sat alone in our cold estate, hiding the child growing inside me, Dante spent his days comforting his late brother's wife, Vanessa.
He treated her like porcelain and me like furniture.
The breaking point came the night I went into labor.
Dante didn't hold my hand.
He ran out of the clinic to comfort Vanessa over a fake emergency, leaving me and his unborn heir alone in the cold sterile room.
So, I decided to give him exactly what he deserved: a ghost.
I staged my death in the storm, leaving behind nothing but signed divorce papers and a tiny, mud-stained onesie.
When Dante returned, he was told I died screaming his name.
He spent months digging through the wreckage of the lighthouse with his bare hands, sobbing into the mud, finally realizing he had sacrificed his diamond for a stone.
He discovered too late that I wasn't just a submissive wife—I was the secret daughter of Don Stefano, the most dangerous man in Europe.
It took him three years to find me again.
He fell to his knees at my feet, covered in grime, begging to meet his son.
"I will fix this," he wept. "I will give you everything."
I looked down at him from the steps of my private jet, flanked by my own army.
"You can't fix what you broke, Dante," I said coldly.
"If you ever come near my son again, I won't send a lawyer. I will send a war." His Daughter, His Mistake
Modern My husband, Austin Rogers, had been missing for five years, only to return with a royal illegitimate child.
The first thing he did was burst into my daughter Joanna's room, wrap her in a blanket, and throw her into the sauna.
His sister, Rosita, sneered as she poured a whole box of leeches inside and locked the door.
I rushed over, begging them to let my daughter out.
They glared at me with malice.
"How dare you plead? The little princess bruised her leg yesterday. If her mother finds out, we'll all be in deep trouble. You're just envious! You want us to stay trapped in this miserable place with you forever."
At that moment, I finally understood that they intended to use my daughter's life to appease that Slaka Queen.
But their plan was doomed to fail.
The person being bitten by leeches inside wasn't my daughter.
They were about to face the consequences of their actions. When Good Wives Go Bad: A Revenge Story
Modern "Just turn here, Jennifer. It' s a shortcut." My mother-in-law, Debra, constantly dissected my driving, my life, everything.
My husband, Matthew, and his father, Anthony, always made me endure her. I was used to it, but her relentless criticism and reckless interference-like grabbing the steering wheel in heavy traffic-escalated our arguments.
Then, everything changed. One moment, her hand was on the wheel, the next, a screech of tires and the deafening roar of a semi-truck. The impact was a brutal explosion of metal and glass. My world shattered into searing pain and darkness.
Through the haze, I heard their voices.
Debra sobbing, "She tried to kill me." Anthony spitting, "That little bitch." Matthew, panicking, but asking, "Mom, are you okay?" Not me. And then, Anthony' s chilling whisper: "Let' s just… wait a minute. Make sure our story is straight."
They were letting me die, watching me bleed out, discussing their alibi.
The coldness of their betrayal was more agonizing than the crash itself. My life faded away to the sound of their lies.
Then, a gasp. My eyes flew open. My hands clenched the steering wheel. "Debra, please, just let me drive…" The words tasted like ash. It was the day before the crash. I was back.
I was whole. They took my life without a second thought. Now, I had a second chance. This time, I would be the one in control. And I was going to make them pay for what they did. From Ashes, A New Empire
Romance The cool, conditioned air of the St. Regis suite was the first thing I noticed when I gasped awake, my head throbbing from that familiar chemical fog – the drug my brother, Mark, used to set me up with Chloe, the woman I once foolishly loved.
Then, the memories slammed into me like a physical blow: the terrifying fire, Lily' s desperate screams, the sickening smell of gasoline, and the crushing heat – this wasn't a nightmare, it was real, a past I had just escaped, and across the king-sized bed sat Chloe, my murderer, my executioner.
My throat clenched, a raw, primal scream trapped within as my heart hammered against my ribs, recognizing this as the night, the precise moment everything twisted into a lifetime of agonizing obsession, cruel betrayal, and the inferno that ultimately consumed my first life and my precious daughter.
How could I have been so utterly blind, so completely duped, so willingly walked into a meticulously set trap that not only cost me everything, but also my child, leaving only a cold, sharp rage simmering within, refusing to be a helpless victim again?
I had a choice now, a real chance to rewrite my fate, and with shaking hands that barely obeyed, I found my phone, scrolled straight to Ryan' s number in Chloe' s contacts, hit dial, and rasped into the receiver, "Come get your girlfriend, St. Regis, Suite 1412; she' s waiting for you," knowing that this time, I would burn her world down first. The Ultimatum at Thanksgiving
Romance My wife, Sarah, and I built Innovatech Solutions from scratch, fueled by late-night pizza and big dreams.
She was the charismatic CEO, I was the nuts-and-bolts guy as Head of Sales and Product Development.
We were partners, co-founders, and deeply in love-or so I thought.
Then she hired Kevin Young, a young, eager intern who seemed to know how to play the game.
Suddenly, Sarah's focus shifted entirely to him, showering him with undeserved praise and opportunities, completely ignoring company values and our shared principles.
Kevin got a company Tesla, a corner executive office usually reserved for VPs, and even a speaking slot at a prestigious tech conference I deserved.
Sarah put him in charge of our most critical project, the Phoenix initiative, undermining my entire experienced team.
The final straw came when she took him on a "strategy retreat" to Napa and posted a selfie showing off my engagement ring on her hand with him in the background for the whole company to see.
The office was rife with whispers, speculation that I was being replaced, that they were together.
My anger slowly froze into a cold, profound disappointment.
How could the woman I' d built everything with betray me so completely, publicly choosing this manipulative intern over our company, our marriage, and me?
Her blindness was staggering, her choices inexplicable, yet devastating.
That night, I knew I had to plan my exit, not just from Innovatech, but from her.
I quietly activated my secret weapon, my Uncle Mike, and began a meticulously calculated operation to take back everything she had carelessly thrown away.
What she didn' t know was that while she was busy playing favorites, I was building a new empire, ready to reveal itself at the perfect, most humiliating moment. The Day He Asked for My Kidney
Romance My family owed the Vances, a debt etched invisibly deep into our lives. Years ago, I’d even donated bone marrow to Julian, Richard Vance’s son, the boy I once hero-worshipped. It felt like a small repayment, tying me deeper into their world.
Then Julian came to me, his handsome face etched with worry. “Mia,” he urgent, “It’s Cassandra. Her kidneys are failing. You’re a perfect match.” He was asking for another piece of me.
In that suffocating moment, a brutal vision slammed into me: Cassandra dying, Julian’s monstrous rage, my life systematically destroyed, culminating in my suspicious death from his calculated revenge. The horror of this terrifying premonition stripped away every shred of naivety.
How could the man whose life I’d saved, whose family saved mine, be capable of such monstrous malice?
Survival became my only thought. I looked at him, not a hero, but a potential destroyer. “Alright, Julian,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “I’ll do it. But I have conditions. This will be the final repayment. A legally binding contract for complete severance of all ties, and a substantial sum for my complete disappearance. My ticket to freedom.” You might like
THREE-YEARS CONTRACT MARRIAGE WITH THE HOT BILLIONAIRE
Ashley Ray "Sign the contract, or lose everything."
I stared at the papers that would seal my fate-a three-year marriage to Julian Blackwood, the ruthless billionaire they call the Ice King.
My family didn't ask. They demanded. My father's company was drowning, my stepsister's engagement had exploded, and I was the replacement bride they could sacrifice. Just another transaction.
Julian made it clear on our wedding day: "Don't expect affection. Don't expect companionship. Certainly don't expect love."
He refused to kiss me at the altar. He gave me a bedroom down the hall and told me to stay out of his way. I was Mrs. Blackwood in name only-a contract, a convenience, a means to an end.
I accepted it. I had survived twelve years of abuse in my own home. I could survive three years of indifference in his.
But then Nate, Julian's best friend, showed me kindness, and suddenly my cold husband became possessive. When my sister attacked me, he became protective.
Now the man who promised me nothing is fighting his own father to keep me. The marriage that was supposed to be fake is becoming terrifyingly real and the secrets about my mother's death are threatening to destroy everything.
They said Julian Blackwood destroys everything he touches. What they didn't tell me... is that sometimes destruction is exactly what you need to be reborn.
With a pregnancy involved, how was I going to end this three-year marriage peacefully?
The Runaway Wife: Hiding His Secret Triplets
Hen Bu Five years ago, I stood in the freezing rain at my mother's funeral, waiting for my husband.
Blake Knight, the billionaire NHL superstar, was two hours late. When he finally showed up, he brought his rumored girlfriend, the woman he had just rented a hotel rooftop for to celebrate her birthday.
Watching him defend her fake tears, my heart completely died. I took off my diamond wedding ring, placed it on my mother's headstone, and walked away from my marriage forever.
I fled to London, changed my name to Ava, and secretly raised the triplets he never knew existed. I thought I was finally safe from him.
But today, my kids vandalized a silver Aston Martin in our apartment's parking garage, and the owner caught my youngest daughter.
My phone rang. The voice on the other end was Blake's.
He had moved into my building, and he was holding my little girl in his penthouse, demanding her mother come get her immediately.
Panic suffocated me. If I walked through that door, my five years of hiding would be instantly destroyed. He would recognize me, realize I didn't get rid of our child like everyone thought, and he would use all his power to take my babies away.
I couldn't let him ruin my life again.
"I'm just her nanny," I lied through my teeth.
I frantically begged my best friend to go upstairs and rescue my daughter in my place. He bought the disguise, but now, the King of the Ice is dangerously obsessed with investigating my new identity. Jilted Ex-Wife? The Secret Billionaire Heiress!
Hei Baidong I was in the hospital, enduring the agonizing pain of labor, while my husband, a famous hockey captain, refused to show up.
When I called him for the twelfth time, begging for him, he lost his patience.
"Giving birth is a woman's job, don't bother me with this stuff."
Then, I heard my stepsister's sweet voice offering him a drink, and he immediately softened before hanging up on me.
I gave birth to twins all by myself.
The nurses treated me with cold indifference, and the family in the next bed loudly mocked me as a pathetic "Puck Bunny" who was just an adopted orphan about to be dumped.
They were right. A month ago, my husband had thrown divorce papers at me, demanding I make way because my stepsister was pregnant with his child.
I thought my life was a joke. I was just a discarded prop he married to satisfy his grandfather, a fake daughter my adoptive parents only used to elevate my stepsister.
I was completely alone, ready to sign the papers just to protect my two babies.
But then, the head of the hospital rushed in, transferred me to the top-floor VIP suite, and handed me a DNA test.
It turned out I wasn't an unwanted orphan, but the long-lost daughter of the ultra-wealthy Sinclair family who had been searching for me for twenty years.
Looking at my billionaire parents and three powerful brothers who just flew in on their private jets to protect me, I picked up my phone to call my arrogant husband.
This time, I was going to make him leave with nothing. Jilted Wife Returns As A Billionaire Heiress
Paula Gardini Chloe had just given birth to twins, lying exhausted in a cramped, bustling hospital ward.
When she called her husband, Julian, he was busy partying with his actress mistress. He coldly hung up on her, having already drafted a brutal divorce agreement that would leave her with a pittance.
Strangers in the next bed loudly mocked her pitiful state, gossiping about how Julian was dumping her. For years, Chloe had erased her own identity to fit into his elite world, only to be thrown away like garbage. She was completely alone, clutching her helpless babies, bracing herself to sign the cruel papers just to survive.
She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion was met with such chilling indifference. Why did she have to suffer this ultimate humiliation while he celebrated with the woman who ruined her life?
But then, a senior doctor noticed a unique mole on her wrist and ran a secret DNA test. The results were staggering: Chloe was the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Beaumont family. With her fiercely protective parents and three powerful brothers suddenly forming an impenetrable fortress around her, Chloe picked up her phone and texted her arrogant husband.
"City Hall tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don't show up, my lawyer will handle everything. And trust me, you won't like their terms." Pampered By The Ruthless Biker Boss
Anywho After six years away, I returned to my hometown with a single suitcase and a picture of my fiancé tangled up with my stepsister.
I thought it was just a simple, disgusting betrayal, but when I planted a bug in their private suite to get a confession, I heard a truth that froze my blood.
My fiancé, Leo, laughed about how my own father had already signed over my mother's legacy-The Nightingale Ranch-as collateral to his powerful family.
"Once this is all done, Claire will have nothing. And the woman you marry will be me," my stepsister Jenna cheered.
Leo cooed back, calling me a stray dog he'd kick to the curb once he was bored, a worthless woman who couldn't even hold onto her family's land.
My family had sold me out, and the man I loved was planning to leave me with absolutely nothing.
I didn't cry. The pain burned away into a cold, hard hate. How could my own father conspire with them to destroy the only thing I had left of my mother?
I crashed their prestigious charity auction and played their filthy recording over the speakers for the entire town to hear.
But when Leo charged at me in a murderous rage, a wall of leather and muscle stepped in front of me.
Kade "Chaos" Peterson, the terrifying President of the rival motorcycle club, crushed Leo's wrist and announced to the stunned room, "She's with me now." A Million Dollar Lie: Watch Me Leave
Jun Shangye For three years, Hilary played the perfect, devoted wife to billionaire Julian Carlisle to save her family from financial ruin.
But her husband didn't love her; he was busy throwing a birthday party for the five-year-old son he secretly had with his college sweetheart.
To keep up appearances, Julian bought Hilary a million-dollar Cartier bracelet, but she soon discovered the exact same jewelry on his mistress's wrist.
During a heated confrontation about his lies, Julian accused her of being a hysterical madwoman and violently shoved her away.
But he didn't care that her head smashed against the sharp edge of a nightstand, causing a life-threatening cranial hemorrhage.
So she was left bleeding and unconscious on the cold floor, while he simply sneered at her.
"Stop pretending. I don't have time for these pathetic games."
He walked out the door, leaving her alone to die.
After a brush with death, her years of unrequited love and hope were completely gone, and she finally gave up.
Waking up in the ICU, she calmly looked at Julian's terrified, regretful face and made her final decision.
"Mr. Hayes, please deliver the signed divorce papers to my husband immediately." The Discarded Genius Heiress Strikes Back
Xiao Ye For three years, Caddie gave up her aerospace engineering career to be Julien's secret girlfriend, quietly writing the core algorithms for his tech company.
On their anniversary, she stood outside his apartment with a rare gift, only to hear his friends laughing inside about his "charity project."
Julien's voice was ice-cold as he called her a stray puppy.
He said she was only useful for debugging his code, and once her final algorithm was finished, she would have no value left.
He was already planning to announce his engagement to the wealthy Kiersten Parrish.
He bragged that he would just write Caddie a check and kick her out, mocking that without him, she couldn't even afford next month's rent.
Caddie leaned against the cold wall, her world shattering.
She had turned down top research fellowships and poured her soul into his work, only to be treated as a disposable tool.
He actually believed she was just a helpless nobody who relied on his charity.
She didn't scream or cry. She simply threw the expensive gift into the trash chute.
Logging into his company's secure server, she permanently deleted every single line of code she had ever built for him.
Then, she packed her single suitcase, walked out the door, and dialed a number she hadn't called in years.
"I'm ready. I want to come home."
It was time to reclaim her place as the true billionaire Kensington heiress. Old Lady of the Iron Crown
Edilaine Beckert I was sweating on a stained cot in a rundown clinic, enduring agonizing labor to deliver my twins.
My boyfriend, Viper, the President of the Raven MC, was right next door.
But he wasn't there to support me. He was buying the whole clubhouse a round of drinks to celebrate his new girlfriend's birthday.
Instead of coming to see his newborn children, he sent a thug with a loaded Glock and a legal contract.
The prospect shoved the cold steel against my forehead, demanding I sign my parental rights over to the club and walk away with nothing.
If I refused, he promised to dump our bodies in the swamp. In the hallway, the club girls laughed, calling me a worthless charity case.
"Sign the paper, or I leave three corpses in this bed."
I clutched my fragile babies to my chest, my heart turning to dead ash. I had given that man my youth and loyalty, only to be discarded like trash.
I didn't understand how someone could be so ruthlessly cruel to his own flesh and blood.
Before the hammer could drop, a mysterious man in a tailored suit calmly walked in and shattered the prospect's wrist. He took one look at the faded scar on my shoulder, ran a rapid blood test, and revealed a truth that shook my world.
I wasn't an unpatched stray, but the long-lost daughter of the most feared motorcycle club president in the country.
Now, with a two-hundred-bike army at my back, it was my turn to hunt. The Jilted Biker Heiress's Spectacular Comeback
Out Of Town "From tonight on, Farrah is my one and only Old Lady! As for you, Sloane... you're just my personal bed-warmer."
In the deafening roar of the crowded motorcycle club, my boyfriend of five years hauled another woman against his chest, publicly stripping me of my title.
The entire room erupted in laughter, waiting for the "helpless orphan" to break down and cry.
His bloodsucking mother and sister smirked in the crowd. For five years, I had served their family like an unpaid maid, secretly bleeding my dead father's legacy dry just to pay off their debts. Now, they were thrilled to see me thrown into the dirt.
Beau pinched my chin, offering his mercy like a king to a beggar. "As long as you know your place and stay in the basement to do the chores, I'll generously let you be my secret baby mama. It's the greatest mercy a cursed orphan with a dead bloodline will ever get."
They thought they had stripped me of everything. They expected me to crawl on my knees and beg for their scraps.
The very next morning, I broke into their safe, took back my stolen inheritance and the keys to my father's legendary motorcycle, and rode straight to the National President-the man who held the absolute power of life and death over the entire outlaw world.
When Beau smugly swaggered into the President's office, fully expecting to find me begging on my knees for him to take me back, he was instead slapped in the face with a wax-sealed document of formal severance.
"She is a free agent now. Anyone who touches her answers to my gavel."
I straddled my father's roaring heavy chopper, looking down at my ex's humiliated, panicked face.
"This is just the beginning, Beau. I'm going to make your family bleed out everything you stole."
But what I didn't realize was that the moment I took my first step toward revenge, the dangerously wild man I collided with in the dark the night before-the one wearing the forbidden insignia of the absolute royal bloodline-had already locked his sights on me like a predator claiming his prey... 
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