Dong Lier
16 Published Stories
Dong Lier's Books and Stories
Pampered By My Obsessive Tycoon Husband
Romance Chloe woke up in a dim hotel room, pinned to a massive bed by a man who wasn't her husband.
Zane Sterling loomed over her with a predatory grin, teaming up with her best friend Iesha to stage damning photos and frame her for infidelity.
In her previous life, this exact setup shattered her marriage to the ruthless billionaire, Jax Irwin. Poisoned by Iesha's lies, Chloe had believed Jax was a monster and desperately fought to escape his obsessive control.
Her blind rebellion cost her everything. After Jax was destroyed trying to protect her, she was brutally tortured by Zane and Iesha, taking her final, desperate gasp for air in a dark, damp basement.
As she died in agonizing pain, she finally understood the truth. Jax's suffocating possessiveness wasn't a cage; it was a fortress meant to keep the real monsters at bay.
Why had she been so foolish? How could she have let them manipulate her into hating the only man who would gladly drink poison just to see her smile?
Opening her eyes again, the cloying scent of cheap cologne filled her nostrils.
She was back three years ago, exactly when Zane was unbuttoning his shirt.
"Just a few pictures, and Jax will throw you out like trash."
This time, the terror in Chloe's eyes vanished, replaced by a chilling, arctic cold.
She grabbed a heavy crystal ashtray, smashed it against his skull, and waited to throw herself into her terrifying husband's arms. The Divorced Heiress: Too Late For Regrets
Modern Hadley dragged her injured body back to New York, enduring severe decompression sickness just to surprise her husband of three years.
But when she pushed open the doors to his penthouse office, she found her stepsister, Eleanor, sitting on his lap.
Instead of feeling guilty, Julian scowled and scolded Hadley for not knocking. He completely ignored her pale face and the horrific bruises on her collarbone. When Eleanor mocked her near-fatal diving accident, Julian simply told Hadley to stop causing drama. He laughed at her demand for a divorce, swearing she would be sleeping on the streets within a week. To punish her, he drafted a brutal agreement that stripped her of every single penny, fully expecting her to break down.
"You leave me, and you have nothing. You'll come crawling back."
For three years, Hadley had given up her career as a brilliant marine biologist to be his perfect, quiet wife. She had endured his coldness, thinking she could warm his heart, but all she got was utter humiliation.
She finally saw him for exactly what he was.
Without shedding a single tear, Hadley signed the ruthless divorce papers in front of the media and walked away empty-handed. But as Julian waited for her inevitable surrender, a fleet of bulletproof Maybachs pulled up to the curb. The head of the world's most powerful family stepped out, wrapping his coat around her. It was time for the true Beaumont heiress to go home. Divorcing The Cold Billionaire After Baby Birth
Modern Aria Miller was forced to marry billionaire Victor Sterling to pay for her dying grandmother's medical bills. She was six weeks pregnant after one accidental night.
But Victor despised her, convinced she was a scheming gold digger who used her body as a bargaining chip.
Right after signing the marriage papers at City Hall, he dumped her at a decaying, rat-infested apartment in Queens and drove away in his Rolls-Royce.
He cut her off entirely, leaving her to scrub rotting floors and eat discounted groceries while pregnant. He expected her to break.
When his grandmother forced him to stay over to keep up appearances, his team hauled in piles of luxury luggage.
During a surprise video call from his grandmother, Victor pinned Aria to the wall, intimately stroking her hair.
"Smile, or the nursing home stops getting checks," he whispered into her ear.
But the second the screen went black, he shoved her away in absolute disgust, looking at her like she was a disease.
Aria was suffocating. She never wanted his money, yet she was trapped in this nightmare, treated like a worthless parasite.
When Victor smirked and threatened to leave her with nothing, the dam inside her finally broke.
Aria didn't cry. Instead, she grabbed a raw, dripping egg and smashed it directly into the center of his bespoke midnight-blue suit.
Staring into his shocked, murderous eyes, she made her terms clear.
"The day this baby is born, I want a divorce." The Unwanted Wife's Secret Comeback
Billionaires Audrey was trapped in a toxic marriage with billionaire Dozier Hodge. To him, she was nothing but a breeding vessel needed to secure his family's trust fund.
The nightmare escalated when Dozier abruptly moved his childhood sweetheart, Blake, into their penthouse.
Blake feigned a fragile illness, expertly manipulating Dozier while openly usurping Audrey's place.
Dozier blindly protected his true love, completely disregarding his wife's life.
He allowed the staff to serve Audrey lobster bisque despite her deadly seafood allergy.
During a sudden storm, he tenderly carried a pretending-to-sleep Blake across a flooded parking garage, coldly ordering Audrey to walk through the freezing, dirty water alone.
He even forced himself on Audrey in the dead of night, ignoring her tears, demanding she fulfill her obligation to produce an heir.
He had no idea that a year ago, it was Blake who had pushed Audrey down the stairs, murdering their unborn child.
Audrey's heart turned to ice. How could he pamper the murderer of their baby, yet brutally drag Audrey to an elite fertility clinic under the threat of ruining her career?
Did he really think she would ever bring another innocent life into this loveless prison?
As the nurse approached with a needle to test her hormones, Audrey stopped playing the submissive wife.
She reached into her bag, pulled out the secret bottle of birth control pills she had been taking every single day, and smashed it onto the doctor's glass desk.
"Cancel the blood test. I have been taking birth control."
She stared into Dozier's horrified eyes, finally ready to tear his empire down. The Unwanted Wife Walks Away Free
Billionaires For fourteen years, Faith was the perfect Jarvis trophy wife. Plucked from her parents' funeral at seventeen, she was molded into an obedient, quiet accessory for Branson's billionaire empire.
But while she managed his charities and smiled at galas until her face ached, he was busy humiliating her. She found another woman's gold bracelet in his desk, and today, his affair with a 23-year-old actress was broadcast on a massive electronic billboard right above his own Wall Street headquarters.
For years, Faith had endured his coldness. He stopped touching her after the second miscarriage. He left her alone to cry in the back of his chauffeured cars at 3 AM. He thought her silence meant she was too weak, too poor, and too grateful to ever walk away. He called her a "cheap pet" who couldn't survive without his credit cards and mansions.
He truly believed she needed someone else to want her before she could leave him. He never understood that wanting herself was enough. Did he really think she spent all those lonely nights just crying in her gilded cage?
He was dead wrong. Faith didn't just pack a cheap duffel bag to run away. She walked right into his seventy-third-floor corner office, slammed down a zero-compensation divorce agreement, and tossed a highly encrypted USB drive onto his desk.
"Sign the papers today, Branson. Or I hand your company's deepest secrets to a short-seller, and we watch your empire burn." Scars Of Betrayal: The Heiress's Revenge
Romance I took the fall for my sister and endured three years of torment in prison.
My knee was shattered, my body covered in scars, and I almost lost my life in that "accident".
On the day I was released, clinging to the last shred of hope, I ran toward my fiancé Benito’s Maybach—only to hear his cold voice: "Your existence is just a nuisance."
It turned out that the beatings and cigarette burns in prison were all arranged by him, paid for with his money. It turned out that the sister I had protected with all my heart had long been switching my medicine behind my back, hoping I would be completely crippled.
At the family gala, they joined hands to strip me bare in front of the flashing camera lights. My father slapped me hard across the face and roared: "Why didn’t you just die in prison?"
I smiled and tore apart my tattered dress, then dialed the number I had hidden in my heart for three years—the man who only understood blood for blood, his voice hoarse and alluring: "Turn around."
This time, I will no longer be a toy to be manipulated.
I will tear off their masks and burn the Stafford family to the ground.
By the way, I will take back everything that belongs to me—including him, the one hiding in the shadows. The Runaway Wife's Billion Dollar Secret
Modern I was the high-society "fixer" who traded my freedom to pay off my father’s debts, living in a gilded penthouse as the perfect wife to billionaire Flint Harrington. My world was a silent, expensive cage until a mistress sent me a photo of my husband’s cufflinks on a generic hotel carpet.
"He's not coming home tonight," she messaged, attaching a picture of a positive pregnancy test.
The timing was lethal. Flint’s grandmother had just promised a multi-billion dollar stake in the family empire to the first heir born. When I confronted him, Flint didn't apologize; instead, he claimed he’d had a secret vasectomy years ago and that the mistress was a fraud.
The room spun as the truth hit me. I was actually pregnant, and if Flint believed he was sterile, he would use the adultery clause in our prenup to brand me a liar and strip me of everything. In this family, a baby wasn't a child—it was a corporate asset that the Harrington Trust would legally seize the moment I gave birth.
I stood there, watching my husband argue about his virility while I carried the very secret that would make me a fugitive. I was trapped in a marriage where my own body was a crime scene, and my husband was the judge and executioner.
Then, my hidden burner phone buzzed at 3 AM with a melody I thought was buried in a grave.
"Jo? It's me. I'm alive."
It was Caleb, my first love who had been declared dead in action years ago. Flint smashed the phone in a dark rage before I could answer, but it was too late. I grabbed my passport and walked out of the penthouse. I was done fixing things for the Harringtons. I was taking their heir, and I was going to find my ghost. My Husband's Secret Public Wife
Modern For eight years, I was the perfect, understanding wife. My husband, Gavin, insisted his company retreats were strictly for employees. No spouses allowed. I never questioned it, believing I was supporting his demanding career.
Then I saw a photo from his last ski trip to Aspen. All his colleagues were there, smiling beside their wives. And in the center stood Gavin, his arm wrapped possessively around another woman. She was wearing my blue silk dress-the one he swore I must have lost at the dry cleaners.
My world didn't just crack; it shattered. I discovered that for our entire marriage, he had been living a double life. This woman, Chanelle, wasn't just his mistress. She was his public wife.
She was the one who went on lavish trips to Hawaii and Europe. She was the one introduced to his colleagues and clients. She was even listed as his emergency contact-his spouse-in the official company directory.
I wasn't just the wife he cheated on. I was the wife he completely erased.
But my heartbreak quickly hardened into cold resolve. He was expecting tears and a quiet breakdown. He wasn't expecting me to show up at his company's annual awards gala, marriage certificate in hand, ready to introduce myself to the world he' d hidden from me. Runaway Bride, Found Love
Romance On my wedding day, my family fussed over my "delicate nerves" while my fiancé, Mark, told me my only job was to look beautiful. For years, they'd treated me like a fragile doll, a problem to be managed.
An hour before I was meant to walk down the aisle, I overheard them on a forgotten baby monitor. They were discussing the sedative they planned to slip into my champagne.
The goal wasn't just to calm my "hysterics."
It was to get me through the ceremony before sending me to bed, "overcome with emotion."
The moment I was gone, they planned to switch my wedding decor for a hidden "Happy Birthday" banner and turn my reception into a lavish party for my nephew. My entire life was just an inconvenient opening act for a celebration I wasn't invited to.
They had always called me paranoid for feeling invisible. Now I knew the horrifying truth: they weren't just ignoring me, they were actively plotting to erase me from my own life.
But my late grandmother had left me one last gift: an escape hatch.
A business card for a man named Julian Thorne, with the words "Unconventional Solutions" printed beneath his name.
I smashed a crystal vase, fled the five-star suite in my bare feet and a silk robe, and walked away from my life, leaving them to clean up the mess. My only destination was the address on that card. Beyond Betrayal: A Love Rediscovered
Romance For six years, I poured everything into building our architecture firm, our life. So, when we landed our biggest contract, I thought it was the perfect moment. At our favorite restaurant, I raised my glass and asked him, "Ethan, let's get married."
He laughed, a dismissive chuckle that shattered our future. "We land the Sterling Tower project and you want to lock me down. Good timing, Miller." My stomach dropped. He thought I was opportunistic, after I sacrificed everything for us.
The real problem walked in next Monday: petite, fragile Chloe Davis, his "old friend" and new personal assistant. Chloe' s smile didn' t reach her eyes as she told me, "It's so nice to finally meet you. Ethan talks about you all the time." Soon, secret dinners, last-minute "site visits" to Napa, and expense reports for king-sized hotel beds confirmed my sickening suspicions. He was cheating.
When I confronted Chloe about a project mistake, she burst into tears, and Ethan rushed in, furious at me. "Why are you yelling at her? She's trying her best." He didn' t care about the multi-million dollar mistake; he only saw his precious Chloe in tears.
A sharp, unbearable pain shot through me. It was the pain of finality. A text from Chloe later confirmed the depth of his betrayal: "He loves me, Ava. He always has... You were just... convenient. Capable. But you're my soulmate."
I was convenient. All those years, all my effort, all my love-a lie. But then, a new chapter began: a chance encounter, a forgotten connection, and a surprising proposal that would change everything. The game was far from over. Womb of Lies, Heart of Fury
Romance The cold gel spread across my stomach, a brutal reminder of the life forming within me that wasn' t mine to keep.
My stepsister, Chloe, watched me like a hawk, her eyes, a pale, cold blue, scanning my body as if inspecting a piece of equipment she had just purchased.
She poked my stomach with a manicured finger, "You are just the vessel. A container. Nothing more. This baby is mine and Liam' s. You are not its mother. You are nothing to it."
I was Ava Green, once a talented architect, now systematically dismantled and cornered into this arrangement by Chloe's father, my stepfather, Richard Sterling.
Chloe' s torment, fueled by her own insecurities, escalated. She manipulated every situation, even forcing Liam, my supposed 'protector,' to abandon me to her cruel whims.
But the real gut punch wasn't the physical abuse; it was the two children I had already lost in this house. The first was mine and Liam' s, brutally taken from me after he deemed it a "complication." The second, conceived for them, also vanished.
With each loss, I felt a piece of myself, a shred of humanity, being chipped away by their indifference.
When Liam shattered the last memento of my first child-a tiny ultrasound picture-I knew I had nothing left to lose.
A cold, clear hatred rose inside me. I walked out of that house, leaving behind the wreckage of my past, ready to reclaim a future they couldn't control. Wife's Escape: A Tragic Love
Fantasy My husband, Victor, always told me I was pathetic.
For four years, I endured his cruelty, his public humiliations, watching him systematically dismantle my life piece by piece, all to punish me for my father' s supposed sins against his family.
He forced me to marry him, then destroyed my company, Nexus, the last shred of my identity.
The final blow came when he made me sign the dissolution papers, then kicked my company' s award across the floor, calling it junk-a toy.
My heart shattered as Celeste, his glamorous business rival and lover, sauntered in, mocking my pain, "Don't be so dramatic, Ava. It was just a startup. They fail all the time."
Victor's cold gaze, fixed on Celeste, twisted the knife deeper.
He had promised my mother' s experimental treatments and my father' s freedom from prison were dependent on my compliance.
I was nothing but a broken wife, a decorative accessory at galas, my efforts sabotaged by smeared articles.
Every escape attempt ended in recapture, a new punishment.
I was trapped in a suffocating web of his influence, with nothing left to fight for.
But then, Celeste, with a cruel smirk, snatched my last remaining prototype-the culmination of my team's dreams for helping others-and threw it against the wall, shattering it.
And just when I thought the pain couldn't get worse, Victor walked in, saw the wreckage, and stomped on the last glittering dust of my creation himself.
"What the hell did you do?" he roared at me, not even glancing at the broken tech.
He dragged me up by my hair, his face a terrifying mask.
"It' s over," I managed, my voice eerily calm, tears streaming down my face.
"I want a divorce, Victor. Let me go."
"It's over when I say it's over," he snarled.
"You don't get to decide anything."
My body went limp.
I was done fighting.
Then, a strange calm washed over me.
If I couldn't escape in this life, I would find freedom in another.
There was only one way to truly be "done."
I would go to the roof. Shattered Party, Fierce Comeback
Billionaires My twenty-first birthday party was supposed to be a golden celebration under grand chandeliers at the Sterling mansion.
Instead, it became a public spectacle of humiliation orchestrated by my adoptive father, David, and his new "family" -a conniving scholarship student named Melody and her mother, Sarah.
The night escalated from a petty accusation of theft to Ryan, my stepbrother, slapping me across the face, then violently shoving my head into my own birthday cake, covering me in frosting and blood.
My father, David, the man who raised me, stood by and watched, his silence a louder betrayal than any scream. Sarah and Melody, with their practiced innocence, expertly painted me as the spoiled villain to a room full of gawking guests.
How could he let them do this? What had happened to the father I once knew?
Covered in cake and tears, I picked up the phone and dialed the one person who would never betray me: my biological mother, Evelyn Sterling, who was supposedly overseas recovering from a serious illness. "Mom," I sobbed, "They hurt me."
The next morning, her voice cut through the phone, sharper than any blade: "My recovery is over. It was a test, Chloe. And we have our answer. I' m coming home."
The game was over. They had declared war on the wrong queen. The Housekeeper Who Stole My Life
Modern My promotion to VP was everything I' d worked for. A new city, a new chapter. It felt like the culmination of my entire life.
But before I could embrace my exciting future, there was one loose end: Mrs. Jenkins, my long-time housekeeper.
I called her to break the news of my move, expecting congratulations. Instead, her voice turned cold. "A severance package? After five years of dedicating myself to you, you think a little package is enough?"
Her demands escalated, from a lifetime pension to my million-dollar condo. My sanctuary. My independence.
"You want my condo?" I laughed, baffled. "That' s an absurd request."
Then came her chilling threat, revealing a parasitic network I never knew existed within the affluent downtown towers.
"You wouldn' t want a bad reputation, would you? A young, successful woman like you."
This wasn' t just about money; it was a brazen attempt at extortion. I had poured my heart and soul into building this life, and now, someone I allowed into my home was trying to take it all. How could I have been so blind?
The dream felt tainted, my beautiful city view mocking me. I had let a viper into my home, and now, I had to cut her out. Permanently. The Rodeo Queen's Second Ride
Fantasy I was moments from becoming Lone Star Rodeo Queen, poised to cement my place in Texas society, just as I had in another reality. But in that past, that "first life," my story ended brutally. The economy tanked, my husband, Blake, blinded by his obsession with Clara Belle Hayes, abandoned our kids and me. I fought, but we died, leaving Blake’s horror-stricken face as my last memory.
Then, *snap*. I was back. The roar of the rodeo crowd, the familiar dust. At midnight, ready for the final barrel run that had, in my first life, set me on that tragic path. Pure panic seized me. Not again. I wouldn't repeat the nightmare. So, with a deliberate, clumsy move, I fell, hitting the dirt, breaking my wrist, and losing the crown.
Blake rushed in, but not for me. He was there for Clara Belle, the new Queen, their golden, triumphant embrace a cruel echo. Gossip swirled: "Poor Sarah." "Blake looks smitten." "I’m happy for her," I lied, the words tasting like glass, knowing he'd secretly coached her then too. My heart, once shattered, was now scarred and hard. This time, I’d see the storm coming. This time, I’d survive. You might like
The Neglected Wife's Vicious Comeback Game
Xiu Luo On our third anniversary, my husband canceled our dinner, claiming a sudden work emergency.
I tracked his phone to an exclusive French restaurant, only to find him tenderly fastening a blessed bracelet—one I had flown across the world to get for him—onto his college ex-girlfriend's wrist.
The sheer shock triggered a violent placental abruption. Bleeding out in my car just across the street, I frantically called his number. Through the window, I watched him glance at his screen, frown in annoyance, and press decline to focus on his lover. While I was wheeled into a freezing operating room for an emergency C-section utterly alone, he took his mistress back to our marital bed.
He didn't even bother to check if I was alive, completely oblivious that our premature daughter was fighting for her life in the NICU. I soon discovered our entire marriage was a sham. He had used my family's wealth to save his company, and now he was trading me to secure a massive business deal with his ex's father. The man I loved didn't exist; he only saw me as a disposable asset.
"I'm going to make him wish he had never been born."
After secretly securing my baby in a private retreat, I ordered a medical-grade silicone pregnancy belly to hide my flat stomach. I stepped back into our penthouse, ready to burn his precious empire to the ground. 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." His Unwanted Wife Is A Tech Genius
Elroy Notman For three years, Cali Sullivan abandoned her brilliant tech career to be the quiet, accommodating wife of billionaire Halsey Donovan.
But on her thirtieth birthday, she returned to their London mansion only to find it empty. The housekeeper, looking at her with deep pity, revealed that Halsey had taken his female friend, Brittaney, out shopping to celebrate her birthday instead.
He had even taken their young daughter, Lily, with them. When Cali called him, Halsey coldly dismissed her, his attention entirely on Brittaney's bright laughter in the background. The crushing blow came the next morning when Cali stood outside Lily's bedroom and overheard her own daughter's innocent wish.
"I wish Auntie Brittaney could be my new mommy. I think Daddy would like that, too."
Later that afternoon, Cali saw them through the window of a private club. Halsey was wiping a smudge from Lily's face with a tender focus he never showed his wife, while Brittaney casually fed him cake. They looked like the perfect, happy family. All of Cali's desperate love and sacrifices felt like a cruel joke. She had been entirely erased from her own family.
In that moment, the agonizing pain just stopped, replaced by a cold, absolute clarity. Cali drafted a divorce agreement waiving every cent of his wealth, left her platinum wedding rings on the nightstand, and booked a one-way flight back to New York. She was no longer Mrs. Donovan; it was time to get her real name back. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. The CEO's Regret: Chasing My Runaway Doctor
Ola Wilde Vivian was eight weeks pregnant, holding the warm ultrasound picture, ready to share the fragile secret with her billionaire husband, Sterling.
But before she could speak, he tossed a thick document onto the marble table: DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.
"Kara's back," he stated coldly, referring to his childhood sweetheart. "I'm giving her the place she deserves."
He demanded she vacate the penthouse immediately, leaving with absolutely nothing.
She didn't cry or beg. She signed the papers, touched her flat stomach where his secret child grew, and walked out in her old trench coat.
She blocked his number, vanished from New York, and spent the next four years building a new life in Geneva as a top-tier surgeon, raising their twin boys entirely alone.
She thought she had finally escaped her past, until Sterling's bodyguards suddenly broke down her apartment door in the middle of the night.
He had used his immense wealth and power to force the "genius Dr. Vivian" to treat Kara's ruined uterus.
He was completely unaware that the masked, heavily accented doctor he was threatening was his discarded wife, or that his own flesh and blood were sleeping just down the hall.
Watching him desperately lavish a manipulative liar with the tenderness he had always denied her, the last thread of Vivian's lingering pain simply vanished.
She sent a single, encrypted text to a trusted friend.
"The boys are safe. I'm ready to start Phase Two."
She was done hiding. It was time to show him how a real war was fought. Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. Discarded Fiancée: The Ruthless Billionaire's Obsession
Ying Suhua I was supposed to be the lucky one, the bankrupt Beaumont heiress engaged to Devyn Langley, the golden boy of Boston's elite.
But the moment I landed from Europe, my best friend shoved a high-definition photo in my face. It was Devyn, tangled in white sheets with another woman.
I didn't cry. Instead, I planted hidden cameras in his secret Manhattan penthouse and heard the disgusting truth.
"When are you going to dump that boring bitch?" his mistress whined.
"Soon. As soon as her family's final trust fund payout clears. Then I'll toss her out like trash," Devyn laughed.
To add insult to injury, he removed me from the guest list of his family's charity gala.
When I showed up anyway, his mother pointed a shaking finger at my face in front of the entire upper crust.
"You are a charity case! A beggar! Get out!" she screamed, while Devyn demanded I get on my knees and apologize.
They paraded around like saints, using my family's tragedy for good PR while secretly plotting to steal my last penny and destroy me.
Did they really think I was just a weak, compliant fiancée who would quietly accept her ruin?
Wearing a blood-red dress, I hacked the ballroom's main screen and broadcasted his 4K sex tape to every billionaire and reporter in the room.
Then, I threw my five-carat ring at his chest and walked away with Kian Koch—the most terrifying man on Wall Street—leaving the Langley empire to burn. One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. One Night With My Best Friend's Uncle
Mo Moqi Elaine woke up with a splitting hangover after a wild one-night stand, desperate to just sneak out and forget it ever happened.
But when the man beside her shifted in his sleep, her blood ran cold.
It was Alaric Caldwell—the notoriously ruthless billionaire, her best friend's terrifying uncle, and the very man who had caught their respective fiancés cheating together six months ago.
Panic-stricken, Elaine fled the hotel and anonymously couriered him $5,000 to buy his silence, only to discover her controlling father had just frozen her entire trust fund.
Things spiraled out of control when she arrived at her office to find that Alaric had just taken over as the new CEO.
He immediately summoned her to his top-floor office, trapping her against the wall.
Slowly unbuttoning his shirt, he revealed the deep, angry scratch marks she had left on his back the night before.
"Does this look like a mistake, Elaine?"
He threatened to fire her and ruin her career if she dared to walk out the door.
Elaine was trembling with sheer terror and confusion.
She had insulted a ruthless tycoon by paying him off like a cheap gigolo.
Why was he cornering a junior employee? Why didn't he just bury this scandal like he always did?
Instead of handing her a termination letter, Alaric locked his cold, calculating eyes on hers and dropped a demand that shattered her reality.
"Marry me." 
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