Bella Youngman
15 Published Stories
Bella Youngman's Books and Stories
His Unwanted Mute Bride Is A Genius
Romance Aria Sinclair, supposedly a mute, uneducated orphan from the Appalachian mountains, was brought into the ultra-wealthy Sterling family to fulfill an old debt.
The family patriarch forced his arrogant grandson, Julian, to marry her, instantly making her the target of their vicious elite circle.
Julian's mother pointed at her in disgust.
"A savage who can't even speak for herself. She will be the ruin of our name."
Julian publicly declared he would never touch her, exiling her to a separate apartment like unwanted garbage. High-society girls framed her at galas, and college bullies cornered her, expecting the pathetic hillbilly to cry and beg for mercy under the crushing weight of their gilded cage.
What these arrogant billionaires didn't know was that her silence was never a weakness—it was a carefully sharpened blade.
They had no idea that the "dumb mute" they were humiliating was actually a world-renowned, miracle-working surgeon. They didn't know she had a secret underground vault filled with millions in cash, forged passports, and tactical weapons.
Tired of playing the docile prey for their amusement, Aria effortlessly crippled the thugs sent to intimidate her, packed a single bag, and walked out.
She left a deliberately messy, childlike note for her so-called fiancé.
"Rule 4: I'm moving out."
The game of hiding in the shadows was over, and it was time to show the Sterlings exactly what kind of predator they had invited into their home. Rejected By My Ex, Claimed By The Alpha King
Werewolf My adoptive family was facing bankruptcy. To survive, they needed to marry a daughter to the comatose Alpha King of the Argent Pack.
My sister cried that she refused to marry a living corpse. So, my boyfriend of three years joined my adoptive parents in pushing me onto the sacrificial altar.
Using the gentle voice I once loved, he manipulated me into taking her place. I agreed, demanding the truth about the infant son they took from me five years ago, only for my adoptive father to coldly claim my baby was dead.
The very next day, I went to my boyfriend's office, only to find him pressing my sister against a sofa, kissing her passionately.
"Once I use the Hicks family to get a foothold in the Argent Pack, she'll be useless," he laughed.
He mocked me as a low-born Omega who actually thought he loved her, bragging about how they planned to use me and throw me away.
Every word was a razor blade. The family I tried to repay, the man I loved—they had conspired from the start to sell me like livestock.
They thought I would just quietly rot in a gilded cage, weeping over my lost life.
Instead, I recorded their filthy affair, secured my fifty million dollar dowry, and walked into the royal estate as the legal Luna. And when my supposedly brain-dead husband's body reacted to my touch, I knew my counterattack had just begun. My Dead Husband Married Another Woman
Modern My husband, Chace, died six years ago, plunging off the Bixby Creek Bridge and leaving me a widow at twenty-four. Every year on my birthday, I visited that cliff's edge, placing white lilies and mourning a ghost. Until today, when a single photo on Instagram shattered my grief, revealing that my dead husband was very much alive and celebrating his sixth wedding anniversary with another woman.
For six years, I’d grieved Chace Woodward, ritualistically visiting Bixby Creek Bridge on my birthday to place lilies for the man whose car vanished there.
Today, on my thirtieth, a slip on Instagram showed him, unmistakably, laughing in a party photo. The caption announced his sixth wedding anniversary with Ivory Woodward, his former secretary, revealing a perfect life mirroring my six years of grief.
Rage burning, I crashed their Beverly Hills party. Chace, annoyed, watched Ivory play the pregnant victim, manipulating him to shove me, leaving me bleeding. He forced a public apology, took our home, and threatened my ailing mother’s life support. I was jobless, reputationless, and utterly alone.
The ultimate betrayal: my mother died after Ivory visited her hospital room, then ensured her heart donor withdrew. My mother’s last hope was stolen. Stripped of everything, my grief solidified: when you have nothing left to lose, you have nothing left to fear.
I uploaded all damning evidence to a cloud drive. Then, in a calm, final video, I told the whole truth, linking to the proof, declaring, "Let the world be the judge." As it went live, I drove back to the Bixby Creek Bridge, aiming my car at the guardrail, ready to disappear on my own terms. His Obsession, My Baby's End
Modern Eight days after my c-section, my husband left me and our hungry, premature newborn alone.
He rushed to his manipulative ex-girlfriend, Cassidy, who was faking another one of her "panic attacks," just as he always did.
His obsession with "saving" her had already caused our son's premature birth. This time, it got him killed.
In a jealous rage, Cassidy slammed her car into us, and my baby was gone.
But when I woke up in the hospital, Kevin was protecting her, not me.
He told me it was an accident, that her diagnosed mental illness made her not responsible. He even had our son cremated without my consent, erasing all the evidence.
He begged me to forgive them, to let it all blow over so we could be a family again.
I looked at the man who had destroyed my life and smiled.
"I called the police, Kevin," I said, showing him my phone. "And that medical certificate you're holding? It's a fake." Beyond The Empty Altar, My Reign
Werewolf I stood alone at the marble altar, the silence of the temple pressing against my eardrums.
It was my Mating Ceremony, but the groom was missing.
My phone buzzed with a notification: a livestream of my mate, Alpha Cain, skipping our union to welcome my sister, Eris, home.
In the video, he held her like she was fragile glass, captioning it: "True power recognizes true power."
When I returned to the Pack House, humiliated, I wasn't met with an apology.
I was met with a slap from my mother.
Eris, feigning a powerful "Alpha Aura," claimed my mere scent was poisoning her.
To "save" her, my family locked me in my room.
But the true betrayal came when I overheard their hushed whispers through the door.
"Use Vera," my mother said, her voice chillingly practical.
"She recovers fast. We can drain her blood weekly for Eris. She can stay as a servant to raise Cain and Eris's pups."
My blood ran cold.
They didn't just neglect me; they planned to harvest me like livestock.
They thought I was the weak Omega they exiled to the North years ago to peel potatoes.
They had no idea that in the North, I wasn't a servant.
I was Commander V, a warrior forged in ice and blood.
I reached under my bed and pulled out my black tactical duffel.
"Screw the meatloaf," I whispered.
I wasn't just leaving. I was going to war. The CEO's Substitute: Love In London
Modern My husband Kamden and I were the most powerful couple in New York, an unbreakable alliance of wealth and influence. To the world, we were perfect, especially with our new baby daughter, Penny, waiting for us at home.
But the illusion shattered at the Jasper Stone gala when Cason Vincent walked in. He wasn't just a rival; he was a dead ringer for Kamden—a cruel, predatory mirror image who seemed to know the secrets of the year I spent in London.
In front of the city’s elite, a socialite screamed that I was a fraud, accusing me of using Kamden as a "substitute" for the man I truly loved. The music stopped, and the room turned into a sea of judgmental whispers.
I expected my husband to shield me, but the paranoia in his eyes was sharper than any rumor. He grabbed my scarred left hand—the one I had ruined to save his life years ago—and squeezed it until I winced in pain.
"Am I just a replacement?" he hissed, his voice trembling with a terrifying insecurity. He didn't see the wife who had sacrificed her world-class piano career for him; he saw a woman who had settled for a copy.
The injustice of it felt like a physical blow. I had destroyed my body and my future to keep him safe, yet he was ready to believe a stranger’s lies over three years of marriage. He didn't want the truth; he wanted me to beg for his forgiveness for a sin I never committed.
I realized then that my silence wasn't an admission of guilt, but my last shred of dignity. I pulled my hand away and walked out of the gala alone, leaving Kamden standing face-to-face with the man who had come to dismantle our lives. The Wife Who Vanished: His Eternal Regret
Modern The champagne was still bubbling in my hand when a five-year-old boy ran onto the ballroom floor and screamed "Daddy" at my husband.
Then his mistress, Hayden, walked in wearing a dress that cost more than my car, announcing to the stunned crowd that they were a family.
Instead of kicking them out, Emilio protected them.
The next day, when I confronted them, Hayden lied and claimed I tried to hurt her.
Without hesitation, Emilio shoved me hard to "protect" his real family.
I fell backward onto the concrete curb.
While I lay there bleeding, losing the baby I had wanted for years, he didn't even check on me.
He stepped over my body to comfort his mistress and illegitimate son, leaving me to wait for the ambulance alone.
In the hospital, I learned the sickening truth: he had only married me years ago because he thought I was terminally ill and would die quickly.
Now that I had survived, I was just an inconvenience blocking his happy ending.
He even tried to force me to sign away my assets to save his company from a scandal caused by his mistress.
"You're nothing without me," he sneered.
I looked at the check he offered to buy my silence and tore it up.
If he wanted me gone so badly, I would grant his wish.
I arranged for a one-way ticket to Zurich and left a single white tulip on his pillow—the flower of the dead.
To the world, Elana Acosta died on that pavement.
But Elana Valeri was just getting started. From Death to Divorce: Her Rebirth
Fantasy A sharp pain shot through my head, pulling me from a deep darkness. I opened my eyes to my luxury penthouse, but I shouldn't have been there. I remembered dying.
The memory was cold and sharp: my protégé, Dustin, sold me out, and my husband, Graves, watched our company crumble, leading to my fatal heart attack.
Then, Graves appeared, his charming, empty smile unchanged. But he wasn't alone. A young woman, Alex Salazar, stood behind him, clutching her cheap handbag. Graves introduced her as an intern, saying she had nowhere to stay and would be living with us. My eyes fell to her neck, where a dark hickey was partially hidden.
The date on the nightstand confirmed it: I had traveled back in time to the exact day Graves brought Alex home in my previous life, the beginning of my long, painful nightmare. Last time, I had screamed and thrown things, starting my humiliation.
A strange calm washed over me. I had been given a second chance, not to win him back, but to escape.
"Of course," I said, my voice even, "The poor thing. We should take care of her." Graves looked surprised, then relieved. He thought he had won. "In fact," I continued, pulling out divorce papers, "I'll make sure she's comfortable. You just have one small thing to do for me." I wanted the Malibu property. "Give me that, and I'll walk away quietly. You can have your new life. You can take care of this... orphan." My Husband, The Monster
Sci-fi The world shattered in a flash of white-hot light, and the screaming began. My husband, John, once the living proof of my life' s work, a hero reborn, transformed into a monster right before my eyes.
He wasn't just violent; he was unrecognizably enraged, tearing at reinforced barriers with superhuman strength given by the very neural chip I designed to heal his mind. In the ensuing chaos, a heavy stanchion swung, hitting me.
I woke up in a sterile hospital room, a hollow ache where my baby bump used to be. Our child was gone. John, who had caused this, sat nearby, his face a battleground of conflicting emotions.
He blamed me, "Our child is dead because your work wasn' t good enough, Eve."
His words twisted the dagger. Not only had he stolen our child, but he also accused my life's dedication, corrupted by my shrewd rival, Vivian Thorne, whose name on his lips felt like the ultimate betrayal.
They stripped me of everything-my project, my license, my credibility-a public execution at my hospital bed. Then, Vivian, with a sickeningly sweet smile, proposed using my dead son's genetic material, combined with my stolen neural map, to create her "perfect" being.
The horror paralyzed me. This wasn't just theft; it was a profane violation. I was forced to concede, typing out the master password to my life' s work.
But then, a flicker of something new ignited within me. "You have no idea what you' ve just done," I whispered.
Trapped, tortured, alone, a faint whisper echoed in my mind from the depths of despair. It's not over. It was my own voice-clear, strong, a promise of retribution. Building Love, Breaking Hearts
Romance The studio lights were blazing, but a different kind of heat spread through me-the fizzing anticipation of finally revealing my four-year secret with Liam, my celebrated architect boyfriend. He was "ArchitectGod," I was "ChefSweetheart," and our in-game mansion, "Evermore Estate," held the truth of our love. Tonight, on the "Building Love" finale, I' d log in live and propose.
Just minutes before the broadcast, I found a quiet corner backstage. My thumb hovered over the familiar game icon, a smile touching my lips. But instead of our virtual home, a sterile system notification popped up: "Your partnership with 'ArchitectGod' has been terminated. You have been removed from the shared property 'Evermore Estate.'"
My mind went blank. My message to Liam, "What's going on?" was met with three chilling words: "It's over, Ava." Then, a 10,000,000 gold coin transfer. A severance package. My secret life, dismissed with meaningless game currency. The online forums exploded: "ArchitectGod just dumped ChefSweetheart!"
Before I could breathe, I was ushered onto stage. The host announced Liam's "new partner"-Chloe Green, a rival designer. Liam, the man I loved, stood beside her, his face a mask of cool indifference. My blood ran cold as Chloe announced they' d been "collaborating secretly in the game for a little while now."
They had stolen my life, online and off. My stomach clenched. This wasn't just a breakup; it was a public execution. I stood frozen under the hot lights, their betrayal burning into my soul. Why? How could he do this? I had to fight back. The Second Chance She Stole
Fantasy My mother' s voice, thick with religious fervor, announced her latest decree for SAT season: 100 days of no secular music, no TV, no internet.
This wasn't the first time.
I remembered falling down the stairs, Molly's raging accusations still ringing in my ears, right before the darkness consumed me.
Now, I was 16 again, trapped in the same suffocating reality, but with the chilling knowledge of how it all ended for me.
My twin sister, Molly, quickly embraced Mama's extreme rules, her 'pious' facade masking pure laziness, while I quietly perfected my escape plan.
As Molly spiraled into isolation at school, earning the nickname "Amish Girl," my mother, Debra, only tightened her grip, even forbidding basic hygiene.
The SAT scores revealed my 1580 against Molly's dismal 850, shattering Mama's carefully crafted image, especially on live stream.
Instead of facing reality, Mama demanded I sacrifice my Duke acceptance, "for Molly's sake," a sister who had literally killed me in my past life.
How could my own mother expect me to give up my entire future, again, for the one who destroyed me?
Why was I back?
This time, I wouldn't argue, I wouldn't compromise, and I certainly wouldn't die for their delusions.
This time, I was getting out, even if it meant watching them burn their own lives to the ground. The Orchid's Dying Breath
Modern Ethan swirled his whiskey, convinced, "Relationships, marriage, it's all a game, and the one who cares less, wins."
He' d often said it, casually dismissing his wife, Chloe, and believing she loved him too much to ever leave.
Then came Mark's hushed words, cutting through the bar's noise like a knife: "She's dead, Ethan."
Dead? Ethan laughed, a harsh, unnatural sound, certain it was a twisted prank.
Chloe was just at Olivia's, throwing a tantrum, he' d even mocked her "vacation" in a text.
He meticulously cleaned, cooked her favorite meal, and replaced her drooping orchid, waiting for her triumphant return.
But the food grew cold, the silence deafening, as his delusion deepened.
Then, Mr. and Mrs. Peterson stood at his door, their faces etched with a grief so profound it shattered his constructed reality.
"She is dead, Ethan!" Mr. Peterson roared, "Dead because of you! You killed her spirit long before that car ever touched her!"
Ethan swayed, his mind reeling.
Dead? But how? Why couldn't he remember?
Why did everyone look at him with such hatred, such pity?
Was he truly capable of something so monstrous that his mind had simply erased it?
A blinding headache pulsed behind his eyes, a terrifying void in his memory threatening to swallow him whole.
As the ceramic bird Chloe made finally fell from his numb fingers, the dam in Ethan' s mind broke.
Memories, cold and brutal, flooded in: ignoring her calls during a storm, prioritizing a deal over her safety, her body under a white sheet, his blank stare at her funeral.
Months later, a diagnosis came: glioblastoma.
The doctor offered surgery, but warned it could erase his traumatic past.
"I won't forget her," he rasped, refusing the memory-erasing procedure.
He would cling to the pain, a constant reminder of the woman he destroyed, now the only thing left of her he deserved. The Swapped Heir
Modern For fifteen years, I poured every ounce of my being into raising my "brother" Billy-Joe, sacrificing my own dreams and college education to get him to his NFL draft party. He was my whole purpose after our parents supposedly died.
At Billy-Joe' s draft party, the festive air turned noxious. I saw them: Earl and Sue-Ellen, my "dead" parents, alive and too prosperous, doting on a jeweled stranger named Tiffany. My blood ran cold when they confessed the brutal truth: I was a mere "swap," used to raise their biological son, while their true daughter Tiffany lived in luxury as the Governor's child.
Fifteen years of my life, my sacrifices, were just a "business decision." "She was useful," Sue-Ellen hissed, "Now you're a loose end." Before I could process their betrayal, pain exploded, and darkness claimed me.
I woke up gasping, not in the afterlife, but in my old trailer bed. It was the day of their fake funeral. My body was intact, yet I had been brutally murdered. How could they fake their deaths, then try to kill me for their monstrous secret, leaving the world to pity them? This wasn't grief; it was a cold, sharp fury.
This was no nightmare. This was a second chance. And I knew, with chilling clarity, every single payback I was going to exact. They thought they had disposed of me? They were about to pay. The Billionaire's Blind Devotion
Romance Ethan Caldwell, the silent, brooding man I hired to protect me, became my world. I’d found him battered and broken in an alley, a lonely art student extending an impulsive hand. For months, he was my quiet guardian, his intense gaze a constant comfort.
Then my stepsister, beautiful, fragile-looking Chloe, entered our lives. She spun a story of childhood bravery, of saving a boy, clinching it with a cheap, painted whistle she swore was a cherished memento. Every word was a lie.
In an instant, Ethan’s loyalty mutated. His icy stare, once a barrier to the world, turned on me, accusing. Chloe, his supposed childhood savior, became his singular, toxic obsession.
His "protection" transformed into a relentless torment for me. My art, my passion, systematically obliterated. My masterpiece, ruined by her "clumsy" accident. My painting hand, my Achilles tendon, deliberately shattered to cripple my future, all dismissed as "an unfortunate incident." My own father and brother, swayed by Chloe’s manipulative pleas, turned their backs, echoing accusations of my "jealousy" and "instability." Ethan—the man I saved, the man I trusted—suppressed undeniable evidence of Chloe's deceit, even orchestrating her winning a prestigious art competition with *my* stolen designs.
I lay physically broken in a hospital bed, isolated, bleeding internally from my stepsister's calculated cruelty. How could the man I saved—the man who claimed to protect—become my ruthless tormentor? Was his devotion to Chloe’s fabricated innocence so profoundly blind he’d sacrifice *everything* for her: truth, justice, even my life?
When they demanded a public apology from me for Chloe's lies—a condition for receiving life-saving medical care—something inside me snapped. At a high-society gala, facing their public condemnation, I finally hit back. I raised my cane. Not at Chloe, but at my own mending leg, deliberately inflicting fresh horror to expose every lie, every betrayal. This was my fight, and I would make them see the truth, no matter the cost. The Returning Ex: A Post-Breakup Love Story
Modern Here’s the translation:
In our next encounter, he had become a top celebrity.
Meanwhile, I was still at the village entrance catching geese.
Someone mentioned me and asked,
"Do you still keep in touch?"
Zhou Sinian glanced down at me and replied,
"No contact, not familiar."
Three years ago, he said I was too clingy and that there was no way we could be together.
After hearing that, I deleted his contact information, threw away his gifts, and walked away.
I thought he was still the same.
But I didn’t expect that from the very beginning of participating in the dating show, he was there for me. You might like
Jilted Girlfriend? I Am The Tycoon's Wife
Dolores Cara Lewis sat quietly as her boyfriend of three years pushed a plate of dessert across the table, wearing a rehearsed mask of sorrow.
He claimed he had to break up with her for her own good, blaming his lack of connections on Wall Street and insisting he couldn't give her the life she deserved.
He acted like a martyr making a tragic sacrifice, waiting for her desperate tears and trembling denial.
Instead, Cara calmly pulled out a stack of glossy photos and an elegant engagement invitation.
She exposed his secret affair with the wealthy Hailie Lewis, completely dismantling his hypocritical social climb.
Leaving the cheating narcissist pale and humiliated, Cara paid the bill and walked out, thinking the trash had finally been taken out.
But her newly single evening took a chaotic turn when a teenage gaming partner called in a panic.
He begged her to crash his elite prep school and pose as his aunt to save him from expulsion.
Cara agreed, flawlessly playing the role of the secret new wife to his uncle, a notoriously ruthless Wall Street titan.
She was thoroughly dominating the snobby school board when the office doors suddenly swung open.
The real billionaire uncle, Beck Greer, walked into the room.
Cara's heart dropped into her stomach as his glacial eyes locked onto her, knowing her social existence in New York was about to end.
Caught in a terrifying, inescapable lie, Cara made an insane calculation.
She stepped forward, firmly hooked her arm through the billionaire's, and smiled sweetly.
"Honey, what took you so long? Julian and I were being bullied."
She waited for the executioner's axe to fall, but the untouchable tycoon simply covered her hand with his and played along. 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. The Hockey Prince's Secret Ice Queen
Lila All I wanted was to find a computer genius to process the non-linear dynamic equations for my ecological model.
Instead, I found myself cornered by Julian Andrews, the university's hockey prince, trading a public, staged kiss for his academic support.
To finalize our "deal," I was dragged to the campus ice rink.
The cheerleaders and puck bunnies immediately swarmed him, mocking my plain clothes and treating me like a pathetic joke.
Brooke, the head cheerleader, even set up a figure skating competition with a date with Julian as the grand prize.
She performed a basic spin, blew him a kiss, and smugly waited for me to fall flat on my face and humiliate myself.
His hockey teammates laughed from the sidelines, watching me try to support Julian as he stumbled around the ice like a newborn giraffe.
But as I held his warm hand to keep him from falling, I couldn't help but feel something was terribly wrong.
Why was a top-tier athlete faking such awful balance?
And why did his ice-blue eyes stare at me with such knowing anticipation, as if he already knew about the professional figure skating past I had spent years trying to bury?
"Just let go and skate."
He whispered, slowly releasing my hand.
I took a deep breath, glided to the center of the rink, and landed a flawless double Axel.
As the entire rink fell into a dead, shocked silence, I realized I had just exposed not only my own hidden past, but also the biggest secret of the campus god. 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." 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 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... Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
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." 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. The Ex-Wife's Return: His Child, Her Reckoning
A. N. Cruz Ivanna had everything: a stable marriage, a promising career, and the love of the man she had fought for, even against his own family.
But when she finally managed to conceive, fate tore her happiness away in the most heart-wrenching way imaginable. Her husband had wanted a child... just not with her.
She made the hardest decision of her life: signing a divorce agreement that left her with nothing. She left without looking back, her heart shattered, carrying a silent promise never to return.
Until now.
Four years have passed, and she's back in Boston, the city where her dreams were once shattered-with a new life, newfound strength... and a secret that will change everything.
She is no longer the same woman who left in silence. And her ex-husband isn't prepared to uncover what she's been hiding.
What will happen when the ex-wife returns with the one secret that might ruin him... or redeem him? 
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