Cascade
16 Published Stories
Cascade's Books and Stories
The Unwanted Wife And Her Secret Pregnancy
Modern After enduring brutal IVF injections entirely alone to protect her husband's fragile ego about his infertility, Evelyn finally received a positive pregnancy test.
But when she rushed to his Wall Street office to share the news, she found him kneeling on the floor, tenderly icing a microscopic scratch on his ex-girlfriend Gigi's ankle.
Gigi had snooped through Evelyn's bathroom, found her old fertility drugs, and casually left them on his desk.
Chadwick threw the pill bottle at Evelyn's feet, mocking her for being a barren liar and accusing her of faking a pregnancy just to guilt-trip him.
When Gigi deliberately threw herself onto the lobby floor, he roared at Evelyn in front of fifty employees, calling his own wife a vicious monster.
He even used her dying mother's cancer treatment to blackmail Evelyn into dropping the divorce for the sake of his corporate image.
That night, just as Evelyn prepared a candlelit dinner to show him the official lab report, he abandoned her to rush to the ER because Gigi claimed she was in a horrific car accident.
Evelyn followed him, only to watch him fiercely holding Gigi over a tiny paper cut, treating his ex like fragile glass.
She finally realized that her years of silent sacrifice and the tiny life growing inside her meant absolutely nothing to him.
As paparazzi swarmed the hospital to broadcast his affair, Chadwick's billionaire rival stepped up and shielded Evelyn from the cameras.
"Are you finally ready to dissolve the prenuptial agreement?"
This time, Evelyn didn't hesitate. She was ready to destroy them both. Bound By Contract To The Beast Warlord
Fantasy I woke up in a freezing, desolate wasteland, my body weak and covered in sores. A mechanical voice in my head informed me that I was a defective rabbit-mutant, and if I didn't conceive within twenty-four hours, I would die permanently.
The terror was suffocating, but the system left me no choice. To survive the brutal cold and the decay of my own heartbeat, I had to force a pregnancy with a stranger.
I stumbled through the snow, my fingers turning blue, until I found a massive, wounded Arctic Fox-mutant in a dark cave. He was a Tier-9 predator, dying and radiating the exact heat I needed to stay alive. I threw away my dignity, crawling into his fur to merge our energies, desperate to trigger the life-reset protocol before my time ran out.
I felt like a monster, forcing myself onto a man who didn't even know I existed, just to keep my own heart beating. How could I ever face him if he woke up? Why did I have to be the one to pay the price for this twisted, mechanical ultimatum?
The fusion was a success, but when I woke up the next morning, the apex predator had me pinned under his massive claws, his fangs inches from my throat. I didn't beg for mercy. I stared into his feral, ice-blue eyes and made a deal that would change everything: I would be his anchor, and he would be my protector. But then I dropped the final, terrifying truth: I was pregnant, and he was the only one who could save us. Vengeance Of The Reborn Mafia Queen
Mafia I was the Mafia Queen of the Castillo family, but I died like a dog in the damp underground interrogation room.
My sweet, fragile sister Chiara lured me into the cells, only to wrap a garrote wire tightly around my throat.
As the wire sliced into my windpipe and I choked on my own blood, a small figure stepped out of the shadows.
It was my ten-year-old son, Leo.
He watched his mother being strangled to death with cold, dead eyes, his past words echoing in my dying mind.
"I don't want a weak commoner for a mother! I wish Aunt Chiara gave birth to me!"
Chiara pulled the wire tighter, her mask of innocence melting into a grotesque, triumphant sneer.
"You never deserved him, Siena. You never deserved the crown."
I died in pure, suffocating agony, my soul screaming into the dark that if there was a next life, I would carve the flesh from their bones.
Then, I jolted awake, my lungs gasping for air against expensive silk sheets.
I wasn't in the bloody cells. I was in the luxurious Master Suite, and hovering over me was my ruthless husband, the Dark Don, Dante Castillo.
I had been reborn.
Leo was only a five-month-old baby sleeping down the hall, and tomorrow, my treacherous sister would arrive at the estate begging for sanctuary.
This time, I won't play the weak, forgiving sister. I will make them beg for death. A Fake Marriage With The Real Tycoon
Romance Alayna was working a grueling catering shift in worn-out heels to support her broke college boyfriend, Caiden, who claimed to be studying at the library.
But through the crack of a VIP suite door, she saw him wearing a bespoke suit and a Patek Philippe watch, sipping expensive liquor.
"It's a little poverty role-play. Keeps things interesting."
He was laughing with his rich friends, mocking her as his clueless "charity case."
To make matters worse, she was forced into a humiliating mascot costume just in time to watch him passionately kiss his wealthy ex-girlfriend.
That same night, Alayna's mother collapsed with gastric cancer, requiring a half-million-dollar surgery.
When a desperate Alayna begged Caiden for help, he refused.
"Why don't you just apply for Medicaid? That's the path for people like you."
For two years, she had starved herself to buy his textbooks, his tickets, and his shoes.
He had stolen her sweat and her sacrifices, all for a cruel game.
The sheer audacity of his betrayal made her blood run cold.
When a billionaire stranger stepped in to pay her mother's medical bills in exchange for a one-year fake marriage, Alayna didn't hesitate to sign the contract.
She slipped the flawless diamond ring onto her finger, opened a spreadsheet, and sent Caiden an invoice for every single cent.
This time, she was going to dismantle his entire life. The Scumbag CEO's Secret Genius Wife
Modern I was the internet's most feared vigilante, famous for exposing toxic men to millions of live viewers. With one click, I was supposed to take down a local scammer, but the screen glitched.
Instead of a petty liar, the face of Kristopher Schaefer-the most powerful billionaire in New York-appeared on the broadcast, branded with a massive red stamp that read: SCUMBAG.
The internet went into a frenzy as I called the city's richest man a "leech" who had no spine. Within minutes, my studio was breached and my network was hacked. I fled into the rain, only to be cornered by a fleet of black SUVs. The man I had just publicly humiliated stepped out of the shadows, his eyes burning with a terrifying, cold fury.
He didn't just want an apology; he wanted me. Because legally, on a piece of paper buried in a safe three years ago, this "scumbag" was actually my husband. He dragged me back to his sprawling estate, stripping me of my secrets and forcing me into a life of luxury that felt more like a prison. He threatened to ruin me for the billions in stock value I'd wiped out, yet he refused to let me go.
I didn't understand why he was protecting me from my own treacherous family or why he looked at me with such starving intensity. I was a forensic accountant who had just declared war on his empire, so why was he putting his mother's priceless emeralds around my neck? Was he trying to silence me, or was there a deeper game at play within his crumbling company?
When he finally found the encrypted drive containing his company's darkest financial secrets, the deal changed.
"Play the perfect wife," he commanded, pinning me against the wall. "Save my merger, and I might just forget you tried to destroy me."
Now, I have to decide if I'm going to finish the takedown, or if I'm the only woman who can save the man I'm supposed to hate. The Magnate Who Claimed My Heart
Modern To help my fiancé's tech startup, I poured my entire inheritance into his dream and even underwent ninety-nine humiliating hymen reconstruction surgeries to satisfy his bizarre fetish.
But just one procedure away from our wedding, I overheard the truth. He called me his "cash cow" and the surgeries were just "pure theater" to lure in investors with a virgin fetish.
He never loved me. He never even touched me.
Instead, he drugged me with "protein shakes" to keep me compliant and paraded me in front of old perverts.
His plan was to publicly humiliate me at the altar, expose my most private medical secrets, and then marry his childhood sweetheart, Kimberli.
He was going to destroy me, dance on the ashes of my dignity, and leave me with nothing.
But if he wanted a show, he was going to get one. Just not the one he planned. I picked up my phone and texted the one man I had blacklisted, the ruthless East Coast magnate Constantine Russell: "Crash my wedding. I need you." A Wife's Fight for Justice
Billionaires My five-year marriage to Dallas Fischer, a tech billionaire, was a blur of high-society parties and fake smiles, until the fifth year ended with the death of our first child.
The official story was a miscarriage, a tragedy, but then I overheard Dallas confessing to his mistress, Alanna, that he had paid a doctor to induce an abortion and dispose of our son's ashes.
He revealed his plan to humiliate me by leaking an intimate video on our anniversary, claiming I was responsible for his ex-fiancée Hannah's suicide five years ago. He had orchestrated our entire relationship as an elaborate revenge plot.
My world shattered. The man I loved, the life we built, was a lie. He hated me, had murdered our child, and was now going to destroy me.
But I wouldn't let him. The game had just begun. Betrayed Wife, Burning Revenge
Romance My husband, Craig, got the promotion. After three long years stuck in a small town, we were finally going home to corporate headquarters.
But when I went to file our joint relocation paperwork, the HR administrator gave me a pitying look. Craig, she explained, had already filed a single-person relocation, listing a different spouse: his high-school sweetheart, Chanel Murphy.
A single, numb phone call to the county clerk's office revealed the devastating truth. I had signed my own divorce papers two months ago, tricked by Craig, who claimed they were investment documents.
He had remarried the very next day.
He used my talent as a top software architect to secure his promotion, all while orchestrating this cruel deception. I had sacrificed my own career opportunities for our future, a future he was already building with someone else.
The pain was suffocating, but then rage burned through my grief. I picked up my phone, my fingers steady. I called Elek Preston, the VP of Engineering, the man who had offered me a lead role on a high-stakes project.
"Is the offer still open?" I asked, my voice clear and hard. Eight Deaths, One Life
Sci-fi Alex Carter was supposed to be my protector, my ex-boyfriend whose job it was to keep me safe. But his heart, his entire world, orbited Chloe Davis, his childhood sweetheart and a rising social media influencer.
Then came Chloe's fiancé's yacht party, a night I' d lived through eight times before, where masked men stormed the deck and dragged us both below. The kidnapper's satellite phone rang, and Alex' s voice, frantic and raw, filled the small cabin.
"What do you want?" he demanded. The voice on the other end was gravelly. "A choice, Mr. Carter. We only have room for one return passenger. Your call. The influencer or the other one." There was no hesitation, not a single agonizing second. "Let Chloe go. Take the money, just let her go."
The words hit me harder than any bullet, crushing me with the weight of my own worthlessness as I was untied, dragged to the edge of the yacht, and pushed into the icy water.
I had died eight times before, each "favor" Alex cashed in to rewind time, always for Chloe. But the ninth time, as darkness consumed me, a cold, sterile light bloomed behind my eyelids.
`...DESPERATE PLEA FOR SELF-RELIANCE DETECTED...` `...OVERRIDING OPERATIVE CARTER'S AUTHORITY...` `...ACTIVATING HIDDEN PROTOCOL...` `[SELF-RESCUE PROTOCOL: ENGAGED]` I wasn't just being revived; I was being granted administrative access to my own mission file, my own life. This time, I' d save myself. The Wife Who Died For Me
Romance The sterile hum of the hospital room was my last lullaby.
I was Alex Miller, a game developer, fading away after a hit-and-run crash.
My wife, Sarah, had spent three years turning my life into a living hell, her words sharper than any blade, all to push me away.
Divorce papers, a constant reminder of my failures, sat untouched on our counter.
I believed her staged betrayals and cruel jabs until the very end, telling the nurse to ensure Sarah knew I was finally gone, free from my burden.
But death offered no escape, only a spectral front-row seat to my own funeral.
I watched Sarah, her face a mask, her eyes raw, remain long after everyone left.
Then, a terrifying truth unfolded: she hunted down my killer with relentless fury, breaking his limbs before calling the police.
A week later, at my grave, under a full moon, she whispered words that tore through the veil of death.
"Alex, I'm here to stay. I'm so sorry. I just wanted you to live, to be happy, without me."
She revealed a medical diagnosis: Glioblastoma. Terminal.
Then, she climbed into my casket, swallowing pills, choosing to die with me.
The world fractured, then slammed back together.
I gasped, sitting at our kitchen table, the scent of coffee and Sarah's perfume filling the air.
She slid divorce papers across the table, her voice flat.
"I've found someone else, Alex. He's successful. He can give me what you can't."
It was the day it all started, her cruel, self-sacrificing performance beginning anew.
But this time, I knew the script.
With trembling hands, I ripped the papers to shreds, then pulled my terrified, lying wife into my arms.
"Are you crazy?" I whispered, tears welling. "Hiding a terminal illness? Do you think that's cool?" Betrayed By Love, Reborn By Fate
Sci-fi The cheap cotton sheets felt real, too real for a man who' d just died a brutal death in a remote facility.
My eyes snapped open to my familiar apartment, the one I shared with Sarah, a place I hadn' t seen in over a year.
Then I saw my reflection: unmarred, clear-eyed, not the skeletal, scarred figure I' d become.
It was the day.
The day my life was systematically dismantled by the two people I trusted most: my cousin, Liam White, and my ex-fiancée, Chloe Davis.
Liam, my supposed brother, had twisted Chloe' s love for me into hate, then moved into her mansion, living the life that was supposed to be mine.
He fabricated lies about my gambling debts and mistresses, even selling Chloe' s prized vintage Porsche and blaming me.
Her wealth and influence became the weapons she used to destroy me.
The final blow came with Olivia Reed, Chloe' s best friend, pregnant with Liam' s child.
They faked a fall, blamed me for her miscarriage, and used Chloe' s power to have me locked away in a hellish facility.
I remembered the sharp pain, my own blood pooling on concrete, and then… nothing.
Until now.
My phone rang, cutting through the silence.
Chloe Davis.
In my past life, I' d pleaded, begged, and been ruined.
"Ethan Miller, you piece of trash! Where is my husband?" she shrieked, venom dripping from her voice.
But the man who feared her was dead.
With a newfound calm, I ended the call.
The silence that followed was a declaration of war, and this time, I knew all the moves. My Sweet Revenge: An Heiress's Reckoning
Modern My name is Gabrielle Fuller, and I died today.
It wasn't an accident, or a tragic twist of fate. It was a cold-blooded murder, staged to look like a suicide by the two people I trusted most: my fiancé, Caleb, and the girl I called my little sister, Molly.
The same Molly who "saved" me from a mugging just a week ago, charming her way into my life, setting the stage for their systematic destruction of everything I held dear.
When I woke up this morning, gasping for breath in my Pacific Heights condo, the vivid memory of their hands on me, the icy shock of betrayal, was so visceral it made me sick.
The date on my phone confirmed it: I was back. Back to the very day they started picking apart my life, piece by sickening piece.
The girl who' d spent her first life unknowingly thanking her killers, showering them with gifts, had been a fool. But this time, when my phone buzzed with Molly' s syrupy voice, my veins ran with ice, not naivety.
They thought they' d won. They thought I was a puppet. They had no idea I already held the strings. Salem's Scorn: The Witch Reborn
Fantasy My eyes opened in a Beacon Hill mansion, a rich prison of silk and scorn.
They called me "Hope," but I was Gabrielle Johns, a witch hanged in Salem, reborn into this timid girl's body.
Their daughter, Molly, staged a dramatic fall down the stairs, shrieked "She pushed me!" and directed her theatrical terror right at me.
Immediately, Molly's parents and fiancé rushed to her side, their faces masks of disgust, calling me a "trailer park animal" and a "disgrace."
They slapped me, starved me, and locked me inside the dark mansion, expecting me to break, groveling for their forgiveness.
But their cruelty didn't just fuel my ancient rage; it ignited the deep, quiet misery of Hope, a girl bullied and dismissed her whole life.
How could they be so brazenly wicked, believing they had untouchable power over me?
They thought locking me away was their control, but they just handed me the key to my vengeance. The Heiress's Second Chance At Revenge
Billionaires I grew up spoiled, flying first class and dreaming of million-dollar handbags.
But for once, I wanted a "real American experience," something my elite family would scoff at.
So, I booked a Greyhound bus ticket, planning to save a fortune and prove I wasn't just a pampered rich kid.
Then the nightmare jolted me awake, cold sweat gripping my back.
It wasn't a dream; it was a memory.
A grim, horrifying memory of that other life where my simple act of kindness on this very bus led to unspeakable horrors.
I saw her again, "Mama" Darlene, with her sickeningly sweet smile and homemade cookies.
I remembered the darkness that followed, waking up in a filthy room, my money gone.
I remembered Cletus, Darlene' s son, dragging me into the mountains, bringing me to a shack.
The things he did to me, the pain, before they left me for dead in a ditch.
To be here again, reliving the beginning of that hell, felt like a cruel joke.
Why was I given this second chance, only to endure the terror of knowing what was coming?
My stomach clenched as I saw Mama Darlene, already beside my seat, her repulsive grandson pawing at my backpack.
Was this nightmare destined to repeat, or could I break free?
My hands trembled, but my mind was crystal clear.
This time, I was awake.
And this time, I was ready to turn their game into my personal battlefield.
I grabbed my phone, and with a cold resolve, started calling in favors that would turn their Appalachian nightmare into theirs. You might like
Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Ming Yue Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back. Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire
Reilly Mcardle For seven years, I played the perfect, hidden wife to billionaire August Chambers while working quietly as an ER nurse.
Three days before our marriage contract expired, he stormed into my emergency room carrying a bleeding woman. It was Allena, his cousin's fiancée.
She had suffered a ruptured corpus luteum from their violent, aggressive sex. Instead of hiding his affair, August ordered me to clear the floor and threw a massive check at my face to buy my silence. Later, his friends trapped me in a VIP club. When a waiter tripped, August violently shoved me aside just to protect Allena from a spilled cup of coffee. I crashed into a glass table, a sharp edge slicing deep into my arm.
"Apologize to her, and I'll have my driver take you to the hospital."
As my blood soaked into the white rug, he stood over me, demanding I get on my knees for his mistress. He didn't know I had faked a miscarriage five years ago to secretly raise our daughter far away from his cruelty. He also didn't know the money he flaunted was pocket change compared to my hidden AI tech empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet around my bleeding arm with my teeth and wiped my blood directly over his heart onto his custom suit.
"I'm done with you."
The submissive nurse was dead, and it was time to let him burn in the ruins of his own lies. Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable
Tao Yaoyao My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out.
I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm:
"In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling."
Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped.
When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself."
Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son.
The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne.
I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie."
I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare. The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon
Flory Corkery For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted.
Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke.
Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph.
Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!"
With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off."
A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!" The Placeholder Bride's Secret Billionaire Revenge
Luo Ye For two years, I was the invisible force behind tech billionaire Kieran Douglas, convinced that our "private" romance was his way of protecting us from the tabloid spotlight. I managed his mergers, warmed his bed, and waited for a future that didn't exist.
The illusion shattered at 6:00 AM when a Page Six alert debuted Kieran's "real" romance with socialite Aspen Schneider. Before I could even process the betrayal, Kieran sent me a cold, professional text: "Order flowers for Aspen. Pink peonies. Her favorite."
When I tried to walk away, my own mother called me a disgrace and threatened to lock my inheritance forever unless I married a sixty-year-old businessman to save her failing estate. At a high-society gala that same night, Aspen intentionally crushed my burned hand in front of the cameras, while Kieran stood by and dismissed me as a "mediocre assistant" who had overstayed her welcome.
I stood in the cold New York rain, drenched in champagne and humiliation, realizing that every sacrifice I made for Kieran was a joke. I was a ghost in a penthouse that was never mine, discarded the moment his "soulmate" returned. To the world, I was just a placeholder whose time had run out.
But Kieran forgot one thing: my father's multi-million dollar trust fund unlocks the moment I legally marry. I didn't need love; I needed a signature and a shield. I walked into a discreet law firm and signed a marriage contract with a man I believed was the city's most notorious, scandal-ridden playboy.
I thought I was marrying a degenerate "beard" to buy my freedom and secure my revenge. I didn't realize the man who signed that paper wasn't a playboy at all, but Gaston Collins-the most powerful and dangerous man on Wall Street-and he had no intention of letting our fake marriage stay fake. The Cold CEO's Unwanted Genius Wife
Meng Xinyu I stood in the darkest corner of the Pierre Hotel’s ballroom, my cheap polyester dress itching against my skin while my wristband buzzed with a DARPA Priority Red alert.
In front of the city’s elite, my fiancé Bryce Calloway took the stage, not to toast our future, but to publicly end our engagement and announce he was with my sister, Chloe.
The room turned on me instantly, a hundred pairs of eyes pinning me down with pity and disgust as they physically backed away like I was contagious.
When I returned home, my mother shattered a crystal vase at my feet, screaming that I was a humiliation and a "dropout" who didn't deserve a cent of the family fortune.
Chloe and Bryce mocked me, laughing when I told them I had a mission with the National Security Agency, convinced I was either a pathological liar or a low-level criminal.
They watched in horror as a black, unmarked military helicopter descended on our backyard to extract me, yet they still chose to believe I was being arrested for drug trafficking.
They saw a pathetic girl who couldn't even parallel park, never realizing I was Dr. Nova Vance, the lead physicist behind the world's first successful fusion reactor.
To secure funding for my research and gain a "fortress" of a name, I signed a thirty-day marriage contract with the arrogant billionaire Roman Knight.
He treats me like a fraud, convinced I’m a gold-digger who failed out of college, while I quietly run global energy simulations from his guest bedroom.
He has no idea that the "loser" he’s forced to live with is the same anonymous grandmaster who has been ruthlessly crushing him in online strategy games for months.
"The contract is active," I told him, looking past his expensive suit.
"But don't expect me to be your maid." Zero Alimony: The CEO's Runaway Wife
Yue Manshuang I was hemorrhaging severely on the operating table, risking my life to deliver the billionaire Carlisle heir.
Through the unsealed door, I heard my husband Axel's cold, mechanical voice giving a ruthless order to the panicked doctors.
"Prioritize the heir. Above all else."
The ice spread through my veins as he reduced my entire existence to a mere vessel. After I barely survived the emergency delivery, his mother marched into my room, telling me I should be on my knees thanking God they kept me alive long enough to fulfill my only purpose. His sister barged in just to scream at me, calling me a manipulative gold-digger. And Axel? He didn't ask about my pain. He simply stared at me like a CEO evaluating a damaged asset, eventually kidnapping me from the hospital and threatening to use his Wall Street power to ensure I would never see my newborn son again.
I had secretly loved this man for years, swallowing my pride and enduring his toxic family's abuse, only to realize that in my most vulnerable moment, my life meant absolutely nothing to him. Why did I ever think I could melt his icy heart?
My heart simply stopped breaking and turned to solid stone. I bypassed his billions, called a top-tier litigator, and handed Axel a zero-alimony divorce agreement, waiving every single cent of his fortune just to make a clean break. Phoenix Of Ruin: My Second Life Comes With A Better Man
Maple Breeze Ashley gave Nicolas ten years of love and five years of loyalty as his perfect housewife, only to be repaid with betrayal, humiliation, and death at the hands of him and his mistress.
After being reborn, she vowed to make them pay.
She tore apart the mistress, kicked her useless husband aside, and returned as the heiress of a top-tier family.
Surrounded by billions, luxury, and a parade of elite bachelors, Ashley became the woman everyone wanted-including a cold, powerful tycoon.
When Nicolas came begging for forgiveness, she smiled coldly. "Fuck off! My man is worth a hundred of you." Untouchable After Goodbye: She Had A Secret Empire
Mira Westfield "Let's get a divorce. She's pregnant and deserves a place in my life."
He once promised to protect Claire forever, yet when his first love returned, he cast her aside. For three years, Claire dimmed her brilliance, living quietly as the obedient wife behind him.
When he handed her divorce papers to give his pregnant mistress a place, Claire no longer hid her talents.
The woman he had overlooked was a legendary healer, racing prodigy, and a genius designer. After the divorce, she reclaimed her glory.
When he pleaded, "Honey, let's remarry," another man pulled her close. "She's my wife now. As for you... Someone, take him out and give him what he deserves!" 
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