Edilaine Beckert
15 Published Stories
Edilaine Beckert's Books and Stories
Too Late For Regret:The Billionaire Cherishes Me
Romance Julissa stared at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test. After two years of a freezing marriage to billionaire Haskell Francis, she hoped this baby would finally bridge the gap between them.
But just as she planned to surprise him, a gossip news alert popped up on her phone. The photo showed her husband looking with unguarded tenderness at a five-year-old girl, while his "widowed childhood friend" Anastasia leaned intimately on his shoulder.
When she called him that night, he coldly claimed he was busy with a contract.
Yet, through the receiver, Julissa clearly heard a little girl's sweet voice call out, "Daddy!"
When she finally confronted the "happy family" in a department store, Haskell didn't apologize. Instead, his bodyguards blocked her friend, and he forcefully dragged Julissa into his car to protect his precious public image.
"I will not allow my marriage to become a laughingstock."
He flatly refused her plea for a divorce. Worse, he coldly informed her that Anastasia and the little girl would be moving into their marital home next week. If she didn't accept it, he would completely destroy her father's company.
Trapped in this suffocating nightmare, Julissa touched her still-flat stomach, her heart turning to solid ice.
Looking at the cruel monster beside her, she knew her days of playing the obedient Mrs. Francis were over. Ninety Days Left: The Dying Wife's Revenge
Modern The doctor gave Tessa exactly ninety days to live before her failing organs completely shut down.
Stepping out of the clinic, her phone buzzed with a photo from her husband's mistress showing his custom watch on tangled hotel sheets.
"Last night was exhausting. He really does not like going home to you, does he?"
For three years, Tessa had been treated like a ghost while Lucian showered Vanessa with endless devotion. The cruelty peaked when Vanessa brazenly stole Tessa's masterpiece painting. When Tessa tried to stop the theft, Lucian ordered his bodyguards to pin his sick wife against the wall.
"Are you trying to extort more money by staging an assault?"
He threw a five-million-dollar check at her face and escorted his mistress away, leaving Tessa collapsing on the floor in physical agony.
Why should Vanessa have everything—the love, the health, the future—while Tessa was left to die in pain and utter humiliation?
She refused to fade away quietly. She altered their prenup to demand a three-hundred-million-dollar divorce settlement and used his limitless black card to hire the city's most expensive male escort, completely unaware the masked man she bought was her own furious husband in disguise.
At the grand society gala, as Vanessa basked in the applause for the stolen artwork, Tessa stepped into the spotlight and held up a silver USB drive. The Ruthless Captain's Secretly Pampered Star
Modern Aries Mathis stared at the glowing projector screen, his blood running completely cold.
For two years, he thought his mentor and former captain, Elias Beck, had simply left for a massive signing bonus in Europe.
But the financial report in front of him revealed a much sicker truth.
Elias had secretly sold Aries' contract to the highest bidder, packaging his own prodigy up like a commodity to line his pockets before abandoning him.
Now, Elias was back in North America, building a new esports empire from scratch.
The betrayal crushed Aries, turning his devastation into a blinding, toxic rage. He spiraled into a self-destructive frenzy, publicly executing Elias's new players in official matches, terrorizing them until their hands physically shook.
He hated Elias with every fiber of his being, yet the gaping hole in his chest screamed with agonizing confusion.
Why did the man who once saved him from the streets throw him away like a stray dog?
Driven to the edge, Aries cornered Elias at a VIP club, lining up ten shot glasses on a table.
"One is pure, high-proof whiskey. The rest are iced tea."
Aries sneered, knowing Elias had a severe stomach ulcer that could put him in the hospital.
"Pick the whiskey, and I sign with your new team for free."
Elias looked at Aries' broken eyes, reached out, and swallowed the liquid in one gulp.
There was no burn. All ten glasses were sweet iced tea.
As Aries fled the club in a blind panic, Elias smiled, pulling out his phone to text his lawyer.
"Liquidate my personal portfolio. I am bringing him home." Jilted By The Heir, Married The Don
Mafia I was sitting in the Presidential Suite in my heavy silk wedding dress, waiting to marry the heir of the Moretti syndicate to save my family from insurmountable debt.
Then, my assistant handed me the morning tabloid.
My fiancé, Marco, had fled to Paris with a half-dressed chorus girl, declaring to the world that he was breaking his chains.
My father burst into the room, terrified that rival families would slaughter us by midnight, and demanded I go beg the Morettis for mercy.
But the Moretti family's ruthless matriarch and their 'Fixer' had a different plan.
To cover up Marco's cowardice and protect their syndicate's reputation, they decided to tell the press that my bloodline was "impure" and cancel the wedding.
Even Marco's slimy cousin tried to grope me, offering to take me off their hands as his leftover prize.
They were going to nail me and my entire family to a cross of public shame just to save their own pride.
I was nothing but collateral, surrounded by cowards, pawns, and opportunists who were ready to devour me to save their own necks.
But I refused to be the scapegoat for a spineless boy.
If I was going to be a piece on the board, I would be played by the hand of the King.
I gathered my heavy skirt, walked straight into the private parlor of the apex predator himself—Don Dante Moretti—and slammed the tabloid on his mahogany desk.
"Don't cancel the wedding." I looked the most dangerous man in New York dead in the eye. "Marry me." The Alpha Who Tried To Break Me
Werewolf The night I met my Fated Mate was supposed to be a dream.
Instead, the sacred bond became a one-way ticket into his twisted mind. I heard the truth: Alpha Kade Vargr only wanted my family’s money, and his heart belonged to his manipulative sister, Lila.
He tried to break me, orchestrating an “accident” that left me bleeding in a ravine just to teach me a lesson. Then, at my own party, he humiliated me by broadcasting my most shameful memory for everyone to see.
My soulmate was a monster, and I was his plaything.
But when I confronted him, he swore a sacred oath on his soul that it wasn't him.
Then, to protect his guilty sister, he stood before our people and confessed to the crime anyway.
He made his choice.
And I made my vow: I would destroy them both. Neglected Luna: Her White Wolf Rises
Werewolf They call me the "invisible wife," the domestic servant with a title. For eighteen years, I played the role of the weak, submissive Luna to my Alpha husband, Anthony.
But the scent of overripe peaches and another wolf's musk on his custom suit shattered my illusion.
He wasn't just cheating; he was popping illegal Bond-Blockers to numb our sacred connection, hiding his betrayal while I catered to his every whim.
Desperate for the truth, I tracked him to the Moonlight Hotel. I expected to find him in bed with his mistress, Katia.
I didn't expect to hear my own teenage son, Jacob, laughing with them.
"Mom is just a human in a wolf's skin," he sneered through the door. "I'm ashamed she's my mother. Katia is what a real Luna looks like."
His words cut deeper than any blade. They mocked my lack of scent. They called me a defect.
They didn't know the jagged scar on my chest exists because I poured my entire essence into Jacob's dying lungs the night he was born.
I became "weak" solely to keep him alive.
And this is how they repay me? By plotting to replace me with the woman spending my inheritance?
They want a powerful Luna? They're about to get one.
I wiped my tears and looked in the mirror, my hazel eyes flashing a blinding, predatory silver.
The White Wolf has been dormant for sixteen years, but tonight, at the Pack Gala, she wakes up to hunt. The Lover Who Became My Killer
Mafia The first time I kidnapped my lover's mistress, he had me killed for it. I gave him eight years, built his empire brick by bloody brick, and was secretly carrying his child.
But for a fragile art student, he had me drugged on a gurney.
I was awake as a back-alley doctor cut our baby from my womb. I heard our child's single cry, then silence.
"Anything that threatens her, I will destroy," he whispered, his voice void of all emotion. "Even you. Even our child."
He then left me for his men to violate and discard. My last thought was that I was just a queen he was willing to sacrifice for a pretty new pawn.
But then my eyes snapped open.
I was in my car, my stomach flat, my hands gripping the steering wheel. The date on my phone seared itself into my brain. I was back on the day of the first kidnapping.
This time, I wouldn't be a sacrifice. This time, I would survive. Three Years, One Big Lie
Romance I donated my kidney to save my fiancé's sister. For three years, I loved him, cared for her, and planned our future, never knowing the life I was building was a lie.
Then, a text from an unknown number arrived. It was a picture of a marriage certificate from two years ago. Groom: my fiancé, Dock. Bride: his "sister," Brianna.
He admitted it all when I confronted him. He was already married to her when he proposed to me. My love, my sacrifice, was just a way for her to get on his insurance to cover the transplant. He told me she was coming home from the hospital, and I needed to pack my things and leave.
Just hours before, my own doctor had called. The donation had put me at high risk, and now I had aggressive, terminal cancer.
As I drove away from the house we shared, my phone buzzed again. Pictures from Brianna. Them kissing on a beach. A positive pregnancy test. I had given them my health, my future, and my heart, and they had left me with nothing but a death sentence.
The world spun into a blur of headlights and screaming metal.
But when I opened my eyes again, I wasn't in the wreckage. I was in a hospital bed, a dull ache radiating from my side. The anesthetic from my kidney donation surgery was just wearing off. Through the door, my fiancé walked in, his face a perfect mask of concern. This time, I knew the truth. The Unloved Bride: Her Heart's Legacy
Fantasy I' ve been dead for three years.
From the quiet place I existed, I watched my family's tech company crumble, my father's health fail, and my mother turn into a ghost of her former self.
My beautiful sister, Brittany, had five fiancés, each dying before their wedding day, a tragedy the papers called a curse.
Desperate, my father hired Madame Zelda, a spiritual medium, to banish the "restless spirit" causing their misery.
She walked in, took one look, and declared, "The problem isn' t a curse on this house. It' s a spirit. Your youngest daughter, Chloe."
My mother' s reaction chilled me to my core: "That little brat. Even dead she' s causing trouble! Always bringing us misery! She was a jinx from the day she was born!"
That night, I watched her drag every last one of my belongings into the backyard and set them ablaze. If I could go back, she screamed, she' d make sure I never saw the light of day.
I always knew no one loved me, but I never understood why. They were so worried about ghosts, yet the real monsters lived right there, down the hall.
When Miller Innovations finally collapsed, my father' s heart gave out again.
More desperate, they called Madame Zelda, begging her to banish me for good.
"The energy is not coming from your current home. It' s stronger elsewhere. The old family estate. The place she was last seen. That is the source."
My mother, frantic, shouted, "We have to dig her up! We have to burn her bones!"
Brittany, ever the angel, rushed to comfort her, "Poor Chloe… she must be in so much pain to lash out like this. We have to help her find peace."
But I saw the cold, calculating satisfaction flash in her eyes.
They were coming for me, convinced they were victims fighting a monster.
At the estate, as my father and uncles dug into the earth, Brittany sobbed, "I was the one who convinced her to come here that day. She said she wanted to bury a time capsule."
A phantom pain hit me. I wasn' t excited; I was terrified.
Their shovels struck something hard-a small, cheap wooden box. Not a coffin, just a crate.
They pried it open, expecting bones.
But the coffin was empty.
Panic erupted. My aunt shrieked, "The demon has taken her body!"
Madame Zelda picked up a mud-caked digital photo frame from the bottom of the box. "The spirit is not in the ground. It is in the truth."
She powered it on. The screen flickered to life, showing me as a happy child, then as a teenager, full of trust, thanking Brittany.
Brittany collapsed, sobbing, "I just wanted her to be happy!"
My parents comforted her, then looked at the empty coffin and the frame with renewed anger.
They still thought I was mocking them. But I saw Brittany' s eyes turn cold and hard. Her grief was a performance. My Sister's Secret Love
Billionaires My life with Ethan, a wealthy real estate mogul, was perfect. Five years married, his adoring gaze never wavered, and our first baby, a girl, was eagerly anticipated. I truly believed he loved me.
Then came the crash. From my hospital bed, a shocking headline jumped out: "Philly Mogul Ethan Reed's Secret Proposal in New Orleans?" The accompanying photo confirmed my worst fear: Ethan, on one knee, proposing to my own sister, Olivia.
He rushed to my side, seemingly distraught, but I sensed the lie. I found hidden love letters and photos in his safe-proof of his long-held obsession with Olivia. Her private journals revealed she'd sacrificed her love, pushing him to me as a "placeholder" for my happiness. Every tender word from Ethan now felt like a taunt. I overheard him confess: our marriage was Olivia's idea, a misguided charade for my benefit.
My "perfect" marriage was a cruel, meticulously crafted deception. He never loved me, only her. The ultimate betrayal solidified at a charity gala: a fire broke out, and he instinctively shielded Olivia, abandoning his pregnant wife in the chaos without a second glance.
That was my breaking point. I sent him the divorce papers he' d unknowingly signed, shattered my SIM card, and quietly terminated the pregnancy. I vanished, leaving him in his opulent, empty world to face the solitary consequences of his deceit. Grandma's Game Plan
Modern My name is Sarah Miller, and at twenty-two, my suburban New Jersey life felt like it was shrinking daily.
The reason? Brenda Hayes, my father's "executive assistant," a title as flimsy as her tight dresses, who was steadily dismantling our family.
She was younger than my mom, Carol, and my father, Rick, was completely under Brenda's spell, treating my kind, gentle mother like a faded photograph.
I watched my mother's spirit dim, powerless, full of a quiet sadness that broke my heart.
I saw the truth about Brenda and Rick' s affair, but my desperate protests only made my father angry and defensive, and earned me Brenda's chilling, venomous glare.
One evening, driving home from my part-time library job, blinding headlights and screeching tires suddenly filled my vision.
A monstrous crash. Pain, then utter darkness.
My life, systematically destroyed by what I instinctively knew was Brenda' s work, became a body in a hospital bed, entangled in wires and tubes, in a persistent vegetative state.
They called it a hit-and-run, convenient, but I was a prisoner in my own skull, aware of the injustice, burning with a helpless rage.
Then, a flicker.
I woke up.
But it wasn' t my own body, nor was I in my sterile hospital room.
My consciousness had inexplicably lodged itself inside my grandmother Esther' s body, recovering from a minor heart procedure in a different hospital.
And when I saw the newspaper on the bedside table, a chilling realization hit me.
The date was three months before my accident.
I was in the past, in my grandmother' s aging body.
This wasn't just impossible; it was a miraculous, terrifying chance.
A chance to save my mother from her slow demise.
A chance to stop Brenda Hayes before she could ruin everything.
A cold, unyielding fury, sharpened by my previous helplessness, solidified within Esther' s frame.
Brenda Hayes was finally going to pay, and this time, I had a plan. Not His Story Anymore
Romance Olivia stood in our penthouse, divorce papers clutched in her hand. New York City lights glittered outside, a familiar backdrop. But for me, this wasn't just déjà vu; it was a living nightmare I' d already survived.
My heart didn't race, my hands didn't shake. I knew this scene too well. The last time, she came with tears, begging me to save Liam, her dead best friend' s brother, from a minor scandal. I refused, convinced she' d choose me. That choice led to my utter destruction: a framed accusation, a mysterious illness dismissed as "stress," and eventually, the pills that almost ended it all.
Now, the cycle was spinning again. Liam, a rising influencer, caught in yet another scandalous "intimate moment" with Olivia. Her sustainable fashion brand' s IPO was on the line, and #OliversBoyToy was trending. My wife stood before me, trembling, just as I remembered, "Ethan, we need to do this. For Liam. For Aura. It' s just strategic." Liam stood behind her, a triumphant smirk on his face. He' d won again.
A strange calm settled over me then - the calm of a man who had faced the absolute worst and survived. The sheer audacity, the blatant replay of a script that nearly killed me, filled me not with anger, but with a cold, clear recognition. How could I ever be enough for someone who constantly chose this parasitic man over me?
When I said, "Okay, I' ll sign them," Olivia stared, her mouth agape, expecting a fight. But I had one crucial condition, a non-negotiable term for this final act: "Once this is done, you never contact me again. We' re done. For good." This time, I choose my own ending. This time, I walk away. Reborn From His Flames
Romance One minute, I was burning alive, choking on thick smoke, watching my little girl Lily whimper beside me as Ethan’s hate-filled face glowed against the inferno.
The next, my eyes snapped open, and I was back at the lake house party, the very nexus where my tragic first life began, with my brother Mike approaching, red cups in hand, ready to unknowingly poison my future.
Every horrifying detail of my past life flashed before me: the spiked drink, the forced marriage, the birth of my sweet Lily, and then Ethan’s chilling accusation – "This is for Olivia. You and her, you’re why she’s gone." – moments before he condemned us to the flames on Lily’s third birthday.
My entire existence was a brutal, fiery brand seared into my very soul, all ignited by this one night, this simple, seemingly innocent red cup.
He blamed *me* and my innocent three-year-old daughter for his perfect Olivia’s car crash, orchestrated my destruction, and now I was back, staring into the face of my impending doom.
An unbearable terror twisted my guts, pleading for a way to break this agonizing loop.
"No," I whispered, panic clawing at my throat as I backed away from the offered drink, my hands shaking as I fumbled for my phone.
I devised a desperate, selfish lie to send Olivia – anything to disrupt this timeline and carve out a new, free future for myself.
I had to save myself. Red Roses and Regret
LGBT+ The acrid smell hit me first, then our fourth-floor apartment shook. My boyfriend, Mark, was already at the door, his eyes wide.
"Chloe," he muttered, and just like that, he was gone – running through the chaos, not to check on me, but to his childhood friend, Chloe.
I stumbled out into the smoke-filled hallway alone, my heart pounding. When I found them, he was stroking her hair, murmuring reassurances while she leaned heavily on him, perfectly fine. He hadn't even looked for me.
No guilt, no panic for my safety, just a flicker of… annoyance as our eyes met. Later, she’d chirp, “Mark was so worried about you!” A blatant lie.
Then his friends revealed the crushing truth: I wasn't just second choice; I was a placeholder, a consolation prize, only good enough for him when Chloe was unavailable.
I felt a cold rage. This wasn't just a spat; it was a pattern of neglect, of being unseen, unheard, always playing second fiddle to his “duty” and “obligation” to her.
The ultimate insult came when Chloe staged a panic attack in our shared apartment, wearing his robe, scattering their "memory jar," and he rushed to her side, utterly dismissing me again, her fragile act once more trumping *everything*.
That was the absolute end. I walked away from the apartment, from him, from that suffocating life. I threw myself into my career, transforming betrayal into fierce independence. But just as I started to breathe again, building my own empire, he reappeared, asking for "one more chance." Will I finally break free, or will the weight of our past pull me back into his orbit? My Generosity, Their Greed
Modern I thought I was doing a good deed, helping out an old university acquaintance, Brittany, by investing significantly in her sister Jessica’s coffee shop.
I even became their most loyal customer, promoting "The Daily Grind" to all my friends and always paying full price for my lattes.
Then, I found out casual customers were getting “VIP” perks like free refills, while I, the primary investor, paid for every single thing.
But the real shock came when Jessica’s young son blurted out, "Mommy, is that the lady you said is a sucker? You said she's rich and should pay more!"
The air in the café went cold as Brittany emerged, casually telling me, "Kids say the darndest things," then added, "People with means helping out a bit more, it's just part of supporting the community, isn't it?"
I was burning with humiliation, fury, and a seething sense of betrayal.
How could these women, who received my generous investment and benefited from my constant support, see me as nothing but a "sucker" to be exploited?
They had no idea they were about to face a very different kind of "sucker." You might like
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." 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." You Treasure Her, While Ten Tycoons Spoil Me
Chen Ziluo My husband of three years suddenly brought his mistress and her son into our home.
Without a hint of emotion, Jude threw a divorce agreement at me and told me to pack my things immediately so they could move in.
I signed the papers and walked away without taking a single penny.
But just hours later, a black SUV intentionally ran me over in a dark alley, shattering my leg.
The men who did it sneered, saying their boss wanted me out of New York permanently.
At the hospital, I was prepped for an emergency surgery to save my leg from permanent disability.
But Jude, who owned the hospital, ordered my operating room shut down.
He forced the entire surgical team to abandon me just to treat a minor cut on his mistress's finger.
Lying there in agony, I couldn't understand how the man I had loved for three years could be so monstrous.
He didn't just want to erase our marriage; he wanted to destroy my life completely.
When I finally woke up after being saved by a friend, Jude was standing by my bed, trying to explain.
I looked at him calmly and spoke.
"I'm sorry, do we know each other?"
I vowed right then that I would stay in New York and take back everything he owed me.
And just a few hours later, his precious new son mysteriously disappeared. The Abandoned Wife's Unforgiving Comeback
S. Mejia For three years, Clara devoted herself completely to being the perfect wife for her husband, Alexander. She quietly put up with the harsh insults from her mother-in-law and the constant shadow of Valeria, her husband's first love.
Clara believed that with patience and devotion, she could win Alexander's heart. But that hope turned to ashes the night of a tragic accident.
When Alexander chose to save Valeria instead of his wife, Clara's heart didn't just break-it froze over. She signed the divorce papers and vanished without a trace.
Two years later, fate brought them together once again. Clara had returned, but she was no longer the meek woman who once begged for scraps of attention. Now, she was a globally celebrated fashion designer, confident, brilliant, and utterly beyond reach.
Alexander, tormented by the emptiness she left behind, discovered that the brilliant mastermind his empire desperately needed was none other than his ex-wife. Obsessed with winning her back, he soon learned that the new Clara had no intention of forgiving him.
The man who was used to having the world at his beck and call must now face the unrelenting queen he himself helped create-and he'd find that forgiveness came at an unthinkable cost: his pride. 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 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. 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. He Cheated with His Stepsister, I Married a Billionaire
Isidora Zytowski After three years of suffocating darkness, Chloe finally regained her sight.
She wanted to share the miracle with her devoted husband, Julian, but froze when she overheard him talking outside their bedroom door.
"It was a mistake marrying her. I only did it because she looks exactly like Isabelle."
Isabelle was his sickly stepsister, the woman he truly loved. Realizing her entire marriage was a lie, Chloe chose to keep her eyes shut, pretending to still be the helpless, blind wife. Soon, Julian brought Isabelle home on their wedding anniversary, kicking Chloe out of the master suite. He catered to Isabelle's every whim, allowed his friends to publicly mock Chloe as a "nobody," and even blindfolded himself during intimacy with Chloe just to imagine Isabelle's face.
Chloe's heart turned to ice. She had sacrificed her sight to pull him from a burning car, yet he viewed her as nothing but a cheap, disposable substitute.
She couldn't understand how the man who promised to love her forever could be so monstrous. He had secretly spent hundreds of millions to fund Isabelle's surgeries, while systematically suffocating Chloe's own dreams of becoming a scientist.
The last ember of her love died on the cold bathroom floor.
She didn't cry or beg. Instead, she secretly gathered evidence, filed for divorce, and walked out of his opulent cage without looking back.
Putting on a pair of clear glasses, she walked through the gates of Columbia University. It was time for the genius scientist, Chloe Hayes, to be reborn. 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. 
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