Edilaine Beckert
13 Published Stories
Edilaine Beckert's Books and Stories
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
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. 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. 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?" 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. Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge
Xiao Hong Mao I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband's aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason's coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go.
The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason's mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside.
The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal.
I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate.
But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone.
"Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands."
The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I'm starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak. 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!" 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." Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance
Lukas Difabio Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman.
As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius.
When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval." 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!" Wild Heiress, Tamed Billionaire
Ruby Stone When I called my husband while trapped in a kidnapper's warehouse, he laughed. "Stop faking," he said, "my delicate mistress needs her sleep." He hung up. I signed the divorce papers drenched in my own blood, giving up everything just to escape the monster I married.
His mother threw a broken umbrella at me in the rain. I had nothing-no money, no identity, no hope.
But the moment I turned away, eight black Escalades encircled the street. A man in a tailored suit stepped out of a Rolls-Royce, shielding me with an umbrella. In his hand was a DNA test-and twenty-three years of relentless search.
"Your last name isn't Smith," he said, wiping blood from my wrist with his handkerchief. "It's Wilder. The Wilder family. And the man who left you to die?" He smiled, icy. "He owes us nine billion dollars." 
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