Er Duo
15 Published Stories
Er Duo's Books and Stories
The Billionaire's Asset: Cashing Out Freedom
Modern I spent three years acting as a high-end manufacturing plant for the Snyder dynasty, waiting for the day I could finally break my golden cage. Today, I slid the postnuptial amendment across the desk, trading my marriage for fifty million dollars and a chance to breathe again.
I thought I was free the moment the elevator doors closed. But while I was at a club celebrating my "asset liquidation" with champagne and silk blindfolds, the Snyder empire was falling apart. My grandfather-in-law had a heart attack the second he heard I was gone, and he refused the surgery that would save his life unless I was the one to authorize it.
Claudius didn't send a lawyer to bring me back; he came himself. He burst into my private VIP suite like a predator, his eyes cold enough to freeze the room. He saw the models, the drinks, and the blindfold, and he instantly assumed I was selling my dignity at a discount just hours after leaving him.
He didn't care about the truth or the papers I’d already signed. He kicked the cameras out of his cousin’s hands, cleared the room with a single look of death, and hauled me over his shoulder like a sack of grain in front of everyone. To him, I wasn't a woman or a wife; I was a critical piece of hardware that had gone rogue.
"The separation is paused," he growled, pinning me against the leather seats of his Maybach as the child locks clicked into place.
I stared at the bite mark I’d just left on his thumb, realizing that in the world of the Snyders, even a signed exit strategy was just another contract he was willing to break. This wasn't the end of my marriage; it was the start of a much more dangerous game. The Villainous Matriarch's Secretly Pampered Wolf Consorts
Fantasy Ella was a dedicated veterinary surgeon in New York. But when she opened her eyes again, she woke up in a brutal, magical world.
Before she could even process her surroundings, a jagged bone dagger smashed into her pillow, missing her jugular by an inch.
The assassin was a young wolf beastman, glaring at her with bloodshot, feral hatred.
Memories crashed into her brain. She had transmigrated into the body of Ella Ortiz, a sadistic matriarch who tortured her bound beastman consorts for sport.
The original owner had just whipped the wolf boy's older brother with a flesh-rotting toxin, leaving him chained in the dungeon to die of sepsis. She had even banished a blinded leopard to a monster-infested forest.
They hated her enough to kill her, but they were bound by the Beast Mark. If she died, their energy cores would detonate instantly.
To save the dying brother, Ella had to rely on a newly activated Villain System.
But there was a sick catch: she could only buy modern, life-saving medicine by earning "Animosity Points."
She had to act like the cruel, arrogant tyrant they despised.
To harvest their hatred, she had to secretly heal their horrific wounds while publicly kicking them, mocking them, and violently abusing them.
As an animal lover, seeing these traumatized beastmen tremble in fear at her feet tore her heart to shreds. Why did she have to be a monster just to keep them breathing?
But watching the dying wolf finally breathe steadily after she secretly injected him with a serum, she made her choice.
If playing the psychopath was the only way to keep her consorts alive, she would be the greatest villain this world had ever seen.
"Pack your gear," Ella ordered her trembling guards, crushing her guilt beneath a cold sneer. "We are going into the Mist Forest to find that blind leopard." Her Revenge: A Castle from Ashes
Modern Allie Patterson poured fifteen years into her husband Grayson’s tech startup, living in a cramped San Jose apartment. Every penny, every late night coding session, was for their shared future, built on his constant claims the company struggled, always on the verge of its big break.
Then, a grant deed arrived: a stunning $4.2 million Atherton villa, paid in full, listing Grayson and an unknown Kacey Schmidt as joint tenants.
Her coffee mug shattered as Allie’s world imploded. Driving to the mansion, she found Kacey in silk pajamas, flaunting a massive pink diamond and, beneath it, Grayson’s grandmother’s heirloom ring – the one he’d tearfully claimed to have lost years ago.
Kacey purred, "He's in the shower. We were so tired last night."
The words were a serrated knife, twisting, confirming years of lies.
Humiliation and rage burned out, leaving a terrifying, absolute silence. All her sacrifice and trust were a cruel, elaborate joke, orchestrated by the man she loved.
Allie calmly took photos, then gave herself one minute in her beat-up car to mourn. When it passed, her tears stopped, replaced by cold, calculated murder in her eyes. She typed a text to Grayson:
"Come home early tonight. I have a surprise for you." My Broken Bond, Their Unending Pain
Modern After our parents died, my brothers were my protectors. That ended the day they brought home Faye, a fourteen-year-old orphan they treated like a fragile doll, while I became part of the furniture.
They gave her my vintage saxophone, my promised trip to Paris, and dismissed my symphony-my life' s work-as "noise."
The final betrayal happened in the library. Faye deliberately tore my master score to shreds. When I tried to stop her, she faked an injury, and my brothers took her side without hesitation.
"You are a jealous, manipulative child," Clinton spat, before burning the rest of my symphony in front of my eyes. They told me to get out of their lives.
So I did. I accepted a ten-year isolated fellowship and vanished. Now, I've returned as a world-renowned composer whose work saved millions. When my brothers, broken by regret, finally found me and begged me to come home, I gave them a calm, professional smile.
"I'm sorry," I said. "Do I know you?" The Mafia Don's Regret: She Is Gone Forever
Mafia I carried the first word I had spoken in ten years like a sacred offering, ready to surprise the man who had saved my life.
But through the crack in the study door, I heard Josiah tell his Underboss that I was nothing but a noose around his neck.
"Grace is a burden," he said, his voice cold. "I can't become Don while babysitting a mute ghost. Lexi brings power. Grace brings nothing but silence."
He chose to marry the Mafia Princess for her father's trade routes, dismissing me as wreckage.
But the true betrayal didn't happen in that office. It happened in the woods during an ambush.
With bullets flying and the mud sliding beneath us into a ravine, Josiah had to make a choice.
I was injured, trapped at the bottom. Lexi was screaming on the ridge.
He looked at me, mouthed "I'm sorry," and turned his back.
He hauled Lexi to safety to secure his alliance. He left me to die alone in the freezing mud.
I lay there in the dark, realizing the man who swore a blood oath to protect me had traded my life for a political seat.
He thought the silence would finally swallow me whole.
He was wrong.
I crawled out of that grave and vanished from his world completely.
Three years later, I returned to the city, not as his broken ward, but as a world-renowned artist.
When Josiah showed up at my gallery, looking shattered and begging for forgiveness, I didn't sign.
I looked him dead in the eye and spoke.
"The girl who loved you died in that ravine, Josiah." Exiled by My Mate, Crowned by Rogues
Werewolf After seven years in a dungeon for a crime I didn't commit, my fated mate, the Alpha who let them drag me away, finally opened my cell door.
He announced I would take my place as his Luna, not out of love, but because the law demanded it.
But the moment a frantic mind-link came through that his precious Seraphina—my adopted sister, the one who framed me—was having trouble breathing, he abandoned me without a second glance.
That night, huddled in a dusty shack, I overheard my own parents' secret conversation. They were planning to have me exiled. Permanently.
My return had upset Seraphina, and her "weak heart" couldn't take the shock.
I lay there in the darkness, feeling nothing. Not surprise. Not even pain. Just a profound, empty coldness. They were casting me out. Again.
But as they plotted my exile, a secret message arrived for me—an offer of escape. A new life in a sanctuary far to the north, where I could leave the Blackmoon Pack behind forever.
They thought they were getting rid of me.
Little did they know, I was already gone. The Heiress's Unseen Revenge
Romance I was Ella Cash, a ballerina who gave up everything for Damien Wolfe, believing his philosophy that love should be free and untethered. I thought our love was superior, purer than any vow or ring could make it.
Then, I overheard him on the balcony of his penthouse, talking to a friend. "Of course I'm going to marry her. Kiersten is the only one for me." He called me a "placeholder," dismissing our two years together.
My world shattered. Every loving gesture, every whispered promise, every shared dream-it was all a lie. He left me standing there, rushing off to Kiersten, who was crying in Central Park.
There, I heard the ultimate betrayal: "I never loved Ella. I pursued her for you. I needed her to carry our child so you wouldn't have to put your career on hold." The baby I miscarried wasn't ours; it was Kiersten's, conceived with a donor's sperm.
I was just a vessel, an unwitting surrogate. To add insult to injury, I learned I was the real Bentley heiress, a truth Damien and Kiersten conspired to hide to protect her inheritance.
They even tried to kill me, pushing me into a pool, with Damien choosing to save her over me. A Decade Undone by Deceit
Romance I collapsed from exhaustion after dedicating ten years of my life to my CEO girlfriend, Kendal. I gave up my music, my dreams, everything to build her empire. At the hospital, the doctor delivered the news.
Malignant tumor. I needed emergency surgery to save my life.
Kendal never visited. Not once. I later found out she was on the phone with another man, sweetly telling him she missed him while I was lying in a hospital bed.
Two weeks after they cut the cancer out of me, on her birthday, I went home and cooked her favorite meal. It was supposed to be our last supper, a final goodbye.
She stumbled in late that night, drunk, carried piggyback by that same man.
They were wearing matching black t-shirts. His said, "I'm with her." Hers said, "I'm with him."
She saw me and froze, her laughter dying in her throat. She scrambled off his back, her face a mask of panic and guilt.
But I felt nothing. Not anger, not jealousy. The part of me that could feel pain for her had been carved out on the operating table, right along with the tumor.
I looked her straight in the eye. "It's over."
Then I walked out of the penthouse we once called home, leaving her standing alone in the monument to our failed relationship. This time, I wasn't coming back. When Family Becomes The Enemy
Modern "A daughter should never marry better than her family, Sarah. It's a simple truth." My adoptive father, Mr. Miller, laid down the law every night, telling me my only job was to be grateful and listen to his "guidance."
Then, a week later, my successful boyfriend, Michael, came to dinner, flowers in hand. My father, who had just fawned over my brother Kevin's wealthy girlfriend, turned ice-cold.
"Get out of my house," he snarled at Michael, shaming me and driving him away.
Hours later, the nightmare escalated. My father, drunk and enraged, announced he had already arranged my marriage to Leo, a man I barely knew. When I refused, he lunged across the table and struck me.
I fled, humiliated and betrayed, only to have my father ambush me at work the next day with Leo. He publicly announced our "engagement," turning my professional life into a circus. Michael walked in on the chaos, and the trust in his eyes vanished. He left, unable to handle the "chaos."
My own family, including my mother, then blamed me for everything, even after my brother physically assaulted me. They demanded I fix their problems, clean up their mess.
How could my own family do this? What twisted logic allowed them to treat me like property, to sabotage my life at every turn, while showering their biological son with privilege? Why was I, the dutiful daughter, always the one punished?
Their cruelty, their endless demands, transformed my despair into a cold, hard rage. I saw their game, and I decided then and there: if I couldn't fight them head-on, I would dismantle their power from the inside. They wanted a pawn? Fine. They were about to get a queen. The Cheating Husband’s Painful Secret
Romance The harsh, sterile light of the emergency room usually brought me a sense of purpose. But tonight, it felt like a spotlight on my humiliation.
There, on a gurney, was my husband, Liam, clutching his groin, his face pale and contorted, his designer jeans cut away by paramedics.
Next to him, a young woman in a crop top, mascara streaked, held his hand, whining about him collapsing.
Then I saw it on his chart: Priapism. A prolonged, painful erection. A side effect of recreational drugs. On our tenth wedding anniversary.
"I\'m his wife," I finally managed, the words tasting like acid.
Her jaw dropped. "His wife? But he told me he was divorced! He said I was his girlfriend."
The air left my lungs. My colleagues watched as Dr. Evelyn Reed, brilliant cardiac surgeon, couldn\'t even hold her own marriage together.
Relief curdled into rage as Liam avoided my gaze. He looked weak, pathetic.
"No, Dr. Chen," I said, my voice cold and clear. "I\'ll handle it. He\'s my patient now."
I stripped off my wedding ring, dropping it onto the gurney next to his hand. "We\'re done, Liam. Consider this my anniversary gift to you."
The memory of him whispering promises of forever, of honesty, of a partnership built on respect, now felt like a cruel lie.
This wasn't just betrayal. He had faked a vasectomy years ago, after our miscarriage, telling me he only needed me, while planning this separate life.
The depth of his deceit made me physically sick.
A Code Blue saved me from that moment, calling me to save a life.
But I promised myself, after I saved my patient, I would return and systematically destroy Liam\'s.
I wouldn't look back. His Billion-Dollar Regret
Billionaires My body was a battlefield, stitches screaming with every step, but my heart soared.
I had just given a kidney to save Liam, the struggling artist I loved more than life itself.
This massive sacrifice for the man I believed was my destiny, the fellow orphan who understood my every struggle, was all worth it because he would live.
But then, laughter peeled from his hospital room – not just Liam' s, but his wealthy friends', their voices dripping with cruel amusement.
"I can' t believe she actually did it," Tiffany' s voice sliced through me.
"Sold a kidney!
For you!
That is the funniest thing I have ever heard."
My world shattered as Liam, the "dying" patient, emerged from his charade, pulling off a fake IV and lighting a cigarette, his smirk cold and unfamiliar.
The room reeked of betrayal.
Liam, the "struggling artist," was the heir to the massive Blackwood Corporation.
His illness, our shared past, his love – all a meticulously crafted lie, a cruel game orchestrated by Tiffany to "teach the little orphan a lesson."
The thought made me sick; I had carved myself open for a ghost, my every genuine feeling trashed for their entertainment.
Why?
Why would someone inflict such calculated cruelty?
My hope, once so vibrant, was crushed, leaving a gaping wound where my heart used to be.
The humiliation was a physical weight, but then a cold, quiet rage began to burn away the tears.
They thought they had broken me, reduced me to a pathetic charity case.
They were wrong.
I would not be their mouse anymore.
I pulled out my phone, a new purpose hardening my resolve.
I was done playing their game; it was time to leave. Woke Up Screaming: A Second Chance
Horror We woke up screaming.
The cloying scent of lilies, the vivid, horrifying memories-Jessica. My older sister, a syringe in her hand, her eyes bright with a chilling mania, her obsession with "dark romance" novels, her fixation on tech mogul Damian Blackwood. We died once because of her twisted fantasy; we were just collateral damage.
Now, we were back-my parents and I-with the chilling knowledge of our past. Then the phone rang. It was her. She' d damaged Damian Blackwood' s drone again, trying her pathetic "meet-cute." Just like before.
My parents, once her enablers, now had pale faces and rock-hard eyes.
This time, we wouldn't bail her out. This time, she would face the consequences alone.
But Jessica' s delusion only festered. Arrests, lawsuits, public humiliations-she embraced them as "tests." She stalked him, got fired, and finally, drugged him. I watched, sickened, as she spiraled deeper into her twisted script, even after being assaulted.
Her unshakeable belief that Damian was "testing" her, even as she was thrown out like trash, was maddening. How could someone be so utterly lost in a fantasy, even when faced with stark, brutal reality? What happened to the caring sister I once knew?
This reawakening wasn't just about surviving. It was about breaking the cycle. This time, the monster wouldn' t win. I would dismantle the very source of her misguided obsession, Damian Blackwood himself, armed with the terrifying knowledge of his true nature from a life we already lost. The Man I Saved, The Monster He Became
Fantasy I am Elara, one of the last Sunstone Guardians, living a quiet, sacred life channeling my essence into healing crystals in the heart of the Arizona desert.
To secure my people's peace, I sacrificed my vitality, marrying a wealthy, paralyzed Texan, Ethan Rutherford, to heal him with my life-giving Sunstone Seeds.
He walked again, strong and vibrant, but my peace was shattered at a glittering Dallas charity ball when I saw my precious, living Sunstone Seeds listed for a twisted public display.
Ethan, now outwardly charming, announced a cruel game: I had to identify my three sacred Seeds from a hundred counterfeits, or he would crush them, one by one, for 'research' orchestrated by his jealous stepsister, Candice.
My terrified pleas were met with a chilling smirk, as security guards held me fast while my humiliation was live-streamed for a national audience.
They called me 'primitive' and a 'gold-digger' as I was forced to watch my vital essence, my very soul, shattered into dust before my eyes, then ordered to 'eat' the pulverized remains.
The unthinkable cruelty, the public mockery, and the desecration of everything sacred within me was a searing agony I thought would break me entirely.
How could the man I saved, the man I married, become such a monstrous betrayer, orchestrated by the woman who now demanded my 'confession' as a fraud?
But as a raw, broken laugh escaped my lips, the grand chandelier above us flickered violently, and a tremor shook the ballroom floor.
My last remaining, untouched Sunstone Seed pulsed with an blinding light, levitating to blast the horrifying truth of my sacrifice and Candice's evil directly into Ethan's fractured mind, a cosmic vengeance finally awakening. His Empire Of Lies: Undone By A Song
Fantasy Aurora Hayes, a senator' s wife with a mystical singing gift known as "Heartnote Harmony," craved true connection on her tenth wedding anniversary night.
But inside their D.C. mansion, she overheard a devastating truth: her charismatic husband, Alistair, had fathered children with his former aide, Cassie Bellweather.
Cassie demanded Aurora' s unique gift be used to legitimize her sons, shattering Aurora's carefully constructed world.
The betrayal escalated quickly; Cassie stole Aurora's ancestral locket, then brutally crushed her hands in a piano, forever silencing her extraordinary voice.
Aurora was publicly framed as unstable and suicidal, her "drowning" orchestrated to preserve Alistair' s political image.
Yet, as a final act of defiance, bandaged hands shaky, she scrawled "NEVER" in her own blood on a forced confession.
Presumed dead, Aurora was secretly rescued by a loyal friend, retreating to the Louisiana bayou where her broken gift transformed into something wilder, potent.
Now, rising from the swamp' s embrace as Nola Rey, she' s returning to claim what was stolen by the very man who buried her. 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. 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!" 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!" 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." The Placeholder Bride's Secret Billionaire Revenge
Luo Ye For two years, I was the invisible force behind tech billionaire Kieran Douglas, convinced that our "private" romance was his way of protecting us from the tabloid spotlight. I managed his mergers, warmed his bed, and waited for a future that didn't exist.
The illusion shattered at 6:00 AM when a Page Six alert debuted Kieran's "real" romance with socialite Aspen Schneider. Before I could even process the betrayal, Kieran sent me a cold, professional text: "Order flowers for Aspen. Pink peonies. Her favorite."
When I tried to walk away, my own mother called me a disgrace and threatened to lock my inheritance forever unless I married a sixty-year-old businessman to save her failing estate. At a high-society gala that same night, Aspen intentionally crushed my burned hand in front of the cameras, while Kieran stood by and dismissed me as a "mediocre assistant" who had overstayed her welcome.
I stood in the cold New York rain, drenched in champagne and humiliation, realizing that every sacrifice I made for Kieran was a joke. I was a ghost in a penthouse that was never mine, discarded the moment his "soulmate" returned. To the world, I was just a placeholder whose time had run out.
But Kieran forgot one thing: my father's multi-million dollar trust fund unlocks the moment I legally marry. I didn't need love; I needed a signature and a shield. I walked into a discreet law firm and signed a marriage contract with a man I believed was the city's most notorious, scandal-ridden playboy.
I thought I was marrying a degenerate "beard" to buy my freedom and secure my revenge. I didn't realize the man who signed that paper wasn't a playboy at all, but Gaston Collins-the most powerful and dangerous man on Wall Street-and he had no intention of letting our fake marriage stay fake. The Cold CEO's Unwanted Genius Wife
Meng Xinyu I stood in the darkest corner of the Pierre Hotel’s ballroom, my cheap polyester dress itching against my skin while my wristband buzzed with a DARPA Priority Red alert.
In front of the city’s elite, my fiancé Bryce Calloway took the stage, not to toast our future, but to publicly end our engagement and announce he was with my sister, Chloe.
The room turned on me instantly, a hundred pairs of eyes pinning me down with pity and disgust as they physically backed away like I was contagious.
When I returned home, my mother shattered a crystal vase at my feet, screaming that I was a humiliation and a "dropout" who didn't deserve a cent of the family fortune.
Chloe and Bryce mocked me, laughing when I told them I had a mission with the National Security Agency, convinced I was either a pathological liar or a low-level criminal.
They watched in horror as a black, unmarked military helicopter descended on our backyard to extract me, yet they still chose to believe I was being arrested for drug trafficking.
They saw a pathetic girl who couldn't even parallel park, never realizing I was Dr. Nova Vance, the lead physicist behind the world's first successful fusion reactor.
To secure funding for my research and gain a "fortress" of a name, I signed a thirty-day marriage contract with the arrogant billionaire Roman Knight.
He treats me like a fraud, convinced I’m a gold-digger who failed out of college, while I quietly run global energy simulations from his guest bedroom.
He has no idea that the "loser" he’s forced to live with is the same anonymous grandmaster who has been ruthlessly crushing him in online strategy games for months.
"The contract is active," I told him, looking past his expensive suit.
"But don't expect me to be your maid." Zero Alimony: The CEO's Runaway Wife
Yue Manshuang I was hemorrhaging severely on the operating table, risking my life to deliver the billionaire Carlisle heir.
Through the unsealed door, I heard my husband Axel's cold, mechanical voice giving a ruthless order to the panicked doctors.
"Prioritize the heir. Above all else."
The ice spread through my veins as he reduced my entire existence to a mere vessel. After I barely survived the emergency delivery, his mother marched into my room, telling me I should be on my knees thanking God they kept me alive long enough to fulfill my only purpose. His sister barged in just to scream at me, calling me a manipulative gold-digger. And Axel? He didn't ask about my pain. He simply stared at me like a CEO evaluating a damaged asset, eventually kidnapping me from the hospital and threatening to use his Wall Street power to ensure I would never see my newborn son again.
I had secretly loved this man for years, swallowing my pride and enduring his toxic family's abuse, only to realize that in my most vulnerable moment, my life meant absolutely nothing to him. Why did I ever think I could melt his icy heart?
My heart simply stopped breaking and turned to solid stone. I bypassed his billions, called a top-tier litigator, and handed Axel a zero-alimony divorce agreement, waiving every single cent of his fortune just to make a clean break. 
/1/108355/coverorgin.jpg?v=5249cf84ef17ae08688b9e87aa7a7bc8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/115552/coverorgin.jpg?v=54460f9d1bc0ca77ebbdf41ea820dc24&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114476/coverorgin.jpg?v=95abced462b2d35ebcc0676852f2dac1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/103571/coverorgin.jpg?v=80a8c87c42dc4543cc2822de0a3db7c5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101761/coverorgin.jpg?v=8291f2f6055e37e8fd2dcd39b737a288&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/91796/coverorgin.jpg?v=10a2083c169d509bd8d86e8855cf83d1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/91022/coverorgin.jpg?v=de373b7fc55799aba0b8a81b0dc1a467&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/89875/coverorgin.jpg?v=5e1fc56308a6cf7e621d12260e344ba8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86200/coverorgin.jpg?v=46a7b12cb36164a4aabaef0d56f5049e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85199/coverorgin.jpg?v=5feeaf0b9f22d19774d4a86d41f18523&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84893/coverorgin.jpg?v=c67cd3b66b6f63084a55847d551f0539&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83270/coverorgin.jpg?v=b8d40bc1d78e16c56c629689ab04a605&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82909/coverorgin.jpg?v=83b51685db90aa90de1da8345177d1e7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82653/coverorgin.jpg?v=c7ad9d4650878345227db3b084b493c2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/18715/coverorgin.jpg?v=064b888bb115456d3cfbf68105b7abcd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113343/coverorgin.jpg?v=ed25261f7a2d99e11acd800d6c850bbf&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113362/coverorgin.jpg?v=5efb20621f255e262e29bdba5df38f3b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112008/coverorgin.jpg?v=2b0abcab944971bf058c4d3da02bb538&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/107720/coverorgin.jpg?v=6d6583f21b392ea7c76b778b0308381b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/78663/coverorgin.jpg?v=b705411c5144e51405caa1dd738aa5d2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/109886/coverorgin.jpg?v=11866cd7ae1a2e1b2a373b6ca96c7dc5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/110901/coverorgin.jpg?v=ef824f8e74525d02a808de96a1088564&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106609/coverorgin.jpg?v=5e9e182824bef37bb03be668963bc105&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/107959/coverorgin.jpg?v=90b942a27d145c7e0635f60f4d48f1fb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/116511/coverorgin.jpg?v=5124b63634351f96b4bcd2e286712be0&imageMogr2/format/webp)