Isis Beutler

Isis Beutler's Books and Stories

Haunted By The Wife He Lost

Modern

5.0

My husband, Jacob, swore to be my shield after my family's empire collapsed and I survived a fifteen-day kidnapping hell. I saw him as my savior, loving him with a desperation born from trauma. Then his intern, Ema, entered our lives. When I became pregnant, he used her lies to call me "tainted" from my past and demanded I abort our child, the shock causing me to miscarry. The final blow came during an explosion at our training grounds. He shoved me aside to shield Ema with his body. "She's carrying my child," he said, his voice like ice. "You're expendable." He left me to burn, promising a rescue team he never intended to send. But he didn't know about the secret escape route, or my brother's plan. I faked my death, letting him find my "body" in the morgue. He thought he had created a ghost. Now, he's about to find out you can't catch one when she's already free.

Too Late, Mr. Don: Your Wife Erased You

Mafia

5.0

My husband sat at the head of the table, cutting into his medium-rare steak like a king. To the world, Brendan Wiggins was a legitimate businessman. To me, he was the Mafia Don whose empire I had built brick by digital brick. Then my burner phone vibrated against my thigh. It wasn't a threat from a rival gang. It was a photo of a positive pregnancy test sent by his mistress. I watched a video of him in her apartment—a place he visited while I thought he was working. I heard him tell her, "Ellery is functional. She handles the books. But you’re giving me the legacy. She’s just the furniture I keep to impress guests." He had taken the trauma of the car crash that left me infertile—the crash he caused—and used it to mock me with another woman. He thought I was his broken doll. He thought I was safe because I was dependent on him. He forgot that I was the Architect. I designed the encrypted channels that kept him out of prison. I controlled the offshore accounts. I didn't cry. I simply applied a coat of blood-red lipstick and tapped a dormant script on my smartwatch. While he poured me a glass of wine and called me his "sanctuary," I drained fifty million dollars from his shell companies. I wasn't just leaving. I had an appointment with a black-market neuroscientist to chemically erase my memories. By tomorrow, Brendan wouldn't just be bankrupt; to me, he wouldn't even exist.

Betrayed Heiress: His Public Downfall

Romance

5.0

For seven years, I hid my identity as a billionaire heiress to build my boyfriend Derek' s career from the shadows. I designed his award-winning buildings, fixed his mistakes, and waited for the proposal he promised. But at the airport, instead of a ring, he handed me a box of pistachio macarons and ran off to comfort his "fragile" assistant. He smiled, thinking he was being romantic. He had completely forgotten that I am deathly allergic to nuts. That box wasn't a gift. It was a death sentence wrapped in a silk ribbon. Standing at the gate, I finally realized he didn't love me. He only loved the pedestal I built for him. I tossed the macarons in the trash and dialed my father. "I'm coming home," I said. Charlotte Murphy, the submissive girlfriend, died at that terminal. Charlotte Wheeler, the real estate mogul, was born. And when Derek finally tried to crawl back with a microphone and a staged proposal, I made sure his destruction was as public as his audacity.

Forty-Nine Books, One Reckoning

Romance

5.0

My husband, Arthur, had a pattern. He would cheat, I would find out, and a rare book would appear on my shelf. Forty-nine betrayals, forty-nine expensive apologies. It was a transaction: my silence for a beautiful object. But the forty-ninth was the last straw. He skipped my dying father' s award ceremony-a promise he made while holding his hand-to buy a condo for his high school sweetheart, Juliet. The lie was so casual it broke me more than the affair. Then he took her to my mother' s memorial garden. He stood there while she tried to erect a monument for her dead cat next to my mother' s bench. When I confronted them, he had the nerve to ask me for compassion. "Let's show a little compassion," he said. Compassion for the woman desecrating my mother' s memory. Compassion for the woman he' d told about our miscarriage, a sacred grief he' d shared like a dirty secret. I realized then that this wasn't just about a broken heart. This was about dismantling the lie I helped him build. That night, while he slept, I installed a bug on his phone. I' m a political strategist. I' ve ruined careers with far less. The fiftieth book wouldn't be his apology. It would be my closing statement.

From Captive to Cherished Wife

Romance

5.0

I was at my wedding rehearsal, standing at the altar across from my fiancé, Holden. Our marriage was meant to be the event of the season, a perfect union of two prominent families. Then, his future sister-in-law, Jaidyn, crumpled to the floor. Without a single glance my way, Holden vaulted over a row of chairs, scooped her into his arms, and sprinted out of the hall, leaving me alone and publicly humiliated. Hours later, his voicemail finally came. His voice was thick with emotion, but not for me. He told me Jaidyn has a secret heart condition and has been secretly in love with him for ten years. He said the stress of our wedding was too much for her, and then asked if I could be like a sister to her once we were married. A text followed moments later: "Postponing the wedding. Jaidyn needs me at the hospital." He expected tears. He expected me to wait patiently, to graciously accept being sidelined for his secret admirer. He mistook my love for weakness. But I am Eloise Bowers. My dignity is not something to be discarded. I scrolled past his name and called his older brother, Alphons—the man Jaidyn was supposedly engaged to. "Your brother's wedding is off," I told him, my voice steady and clear. "But the bride is still a Callahan. I'm at the city hall courthouse. You have thirty minutes."

The Husband’s Body, Her Revenge

Fantasy

5.0

The world came back in a blinding flash, a hospital' s sterile tang assaulting my senses. Then I heard her, my monster-in-law, shrilly wailing over "my poor Jake," oblivious to the horrifying truth. My hand, resting on the hospital sheet, wore Jake' s wedding ring. A cold dread seeped into my bones: I was in my husband' s body. As Brenda' s conspiratorial whisper cut through the fog – "That car accident… it didn' t go as planned. Chloe is still alive…" – my blood ran cold with the chilling realization. The car accident wasn' t an accident. They tried to murder me for an insurance payout. My own husband, the man I loved, had plotted with his family to kill me, his mistress Sarah, and his own mother in on it. A gut-wrenching betrayal twisted inside me, remembering how I' d used my dowry to build his company, how his family had treated me like a servant, and how Jake had dismissed it all. This wasn' t just about money; it was about destroying me. But as a sharp, burning rage ignited within, a vow formed in the depths of Jake' s hospital bed. They wanted to ruin my life? Fine. I would ruin theirs first. I would take back what was mine, using his body to dismantle every single thing he had built. Justice wasn't enough. I wanted revenge.

When the Underdog Rises: Ash's Awakening

Fantasy

5.0

The last thing I saw was Maverick' s powerful hooves, descending on me. I was back, gasping, the thick scent of magnolias filling my lungs at the Claiming Ceremony – the day my life fell apart. Maverick, the champion I had raised from a foal, trotted straight to Charlotte, nuzzling her hand in a blatant act of public rejection. My father, Richard, placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip tight, announcing, "Charlotte has a special connection. You're the older sister, let her have him. It' s for the good of the family's reputation." The jockey I' d helped sneered, "A champion horse needs a champion rider." Charlotte's friends chimed in with fake sympathy, insisting I was never strong enough, that I would have held him back. The humiliation was a physical weight, but this time, in my second chance, I felt only a cold resolve. My father pushed, trying to salvage his scheme, offering me the sickly, seemingly worthless colt, Ash, in exchange. Everyone pitied the broken girl being cast aside, agreeing I was walking away empty-handed. But kneeling beside Ash, I felt a faint, familiar warmth, a deep connection confirming what I suspected: he was my mother' s true legacy, the horse she had left for me. Charlotte, arrogant in her victory, declared, "Let' s perform the bonding ritual now, so everyone can see the true bond between a rider and her horse." I stood, a slow smile spreading across my face. "I agree."

The Million-Dollar Revenge

Fantasy

5.0

My name is Sarah Miller, and I'd just hit the lottery for millions—a life-changing sum. I had a loving husband, Mark, his family, and my sweet five-year-old son, Leo. Our Memorial Day road trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains promised a perfect getaway. But a chilling current ran beneath their forced smiles. At a breathtaking scenic overlook, the man I trusted most, my husband Mark, pulled me close. Then he pushed. The air rushed past, a brief, sharp pain, and then, nothing. My spirit, unseen, lingered. I watched my murderers—Mark, his mother Brenda, and his sister Jessica—calmly walk away, plotting to claim my lottery money. But the true horror struck days later: my beloved son, Leo, called another woman "Mom," revealing he was never mine, but Mark's and his mistress Tiffany's. My entire life had been a meticulously crafted lie. My love, a mere pawn in their cruel deception. The fiery pain of this betrayal ignited an inferno of rage and a singular desire: for them to suffer just as agonizingly as I had. Then, darkness. I woke with a gasp to sunlight. The calendar read Memorial Day, the morning of the trip. This wasn't a nightmare; it was a miraculous second chance. An icy resolve hardened my core: They would pay. Every single one of them.

My Husband Is Helplessly Romantic

History

5.0

Transferred to the body of a young lady from a noble family. Married a nobleman whom she did not love. The nobleman was foolish but wealthy, and she had planned to wait for him to inherit his fortune. But she did not expect the nobleman to be handsome, kind-hearted, and in love. The original owner of the body was excellent in reading, painting, and embroidery. As for me, I also enjoy reading (The Overbearing CEO Falls in Love with Me), drawing (a few things about pornographic drawings), but embroidery is not my strong suit. The nobleman's hobbies are really... I can't resist them at all!