Nert Kirschner
14 Published Stories
Nert Kirschner's Books and Stories
Betrayed Wife: Reclaiming My Stolen Life
Billionaires On the morning of our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, I found a cream-colored document tucked inside my husband's suit pocket.
It was a twenty-million-dollar asset transfer for his former receptionist, Carmen. But what made my blood run cold was the contingent beneficiary: Leo, my newborn son who the hospital claimed was kidnapped twenty-three years ago.
When I confronted Devonte, he didn't even try to explain. He handed me a fake Cartier watch, canceled all my credit cards, and publicly called me delusional.
The next day, he moved Carmen into our mansion and emptied all our joint accounts into offshore trusts.
"If you don't sign these papers and walk away, I will have you committed," he threatened, his mother nodding in agreement.
They had orchestrated the kidnapping of my baby, hiding him with the mistress while I spent half my life sedated and screaming in grief. Now, to keep his secret, Devonte was going to lock me in a psychiatric ward and bury me in debt.
I didn't understand how the man I loved could be such a monster. Why did he steal my child? What else was hidden in that confidential adoption file?
Pushed to the absolute brink, I refused to be his victim.
When his goons came to my temporary apartment to drag me away, I turned to the rugged union electrician who had just fixed my lights.
"If you need a husband to keep you out of a psych ward, I'll marry you," he said, offering himself as my legal shield.
I took his hand. It was time to tear my husband's perfect life apart. The Heiress Reclaims Her Empire
Mafia I transmigrated into the body of a doomed mafia princess, engaged to the ruthless Don of the Syndicate.
Right before a high-stakes gala, I caught his childhood sweetheart walking out of his private suite wearing his clothes, begging me not to misunderstand.
Then, she forged official documents to steal my family's priceless diamond donation, projecting her name next to his to present them as a unified power couple.
Instead of punishing her, the Don fiercely protected the weeping sweetheart.
He accused me of being a jealous tyrant, ordering me to drop it because she was unwell.
His mother, the Matriarch, threatened me to stay quiet and swallow the humiliation to protect the family's face.
They expected me to just stand there while she stole my wealth and my position.
The original Gianna would have thrown a hysterical fit and sealed her fate as the crazy villainess.
But looking at their blind favoritism, my love for him completely died.
Why should my family's blood and money be used as a pedestal for a manipulative thief?
I refused to play their game.
I projected the security logs to the entire ballroom, exposing her forgery to the Five Families.
Then, I pulled off my blood-oath engagement ring and demanded every single dollar I ever invested reimbursed.
"This betrothal ends tonight," I declared, walking away.
But hours later, my phone lit up with a text from the furious Don.
"I am going to tear apart whatever illusion of freedom you have built, and when I do, I am coming to collect you." Divorced And Penniless: The Billionaire's Secret Heir
Modern On their seventh wedding anniversary, Kiley's billionaire husband, Aden, slid a thick stack of papers across the restaurant table.
It was a petition for divorce.
He was leaving her for his college sweetheart. Thanks to a ruthless prenup, Kiley was being thrown out with absolutely nothing.
That very night, their young son Jules was rushed to the ER, bleeding profusely. The doctor's diagnosis was a death sentence: acute leukemia.
When Kiley frantically called Aden for help, he dismissed the emergency as a simple nosebleed.
"I'm not paying for this. Deal with it," Aden sneered, the sound of his mistress giggling in the background.
To force Kiley to sign the divorce papers, Aden froze all her credit cards and canceled their son's health insurance. He refused to pay a single cent for the chemotherapy.
Even Kiley's adoptive parents sided with the wealthy Aden, calling her a burden and telling her to stop fighting him.
Driven to the brink of despair, with a dying child and no money, Kiley didn't understand how a father could be so monstrous to his own flesh and blood.
Until a news article on a friend's phone caught her eye.
It featured a fallen 9/11 firefighter hero from the ultra-wealthy Whitfield family. The man in the photo looked exactly like Jules, down to the very bone structure.
Kiley's mind raced back to the fertility clinic and the anonymous sperm donor.
Could this dead billionaire hero be her son's biological father?
Looking at her sleeping, fragile boy, Kiley wiped her tears and crushed the divorce papers in her hand.
She was going to find the Whitfield family, save her son, and make Aden lose everything he held dear. Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: Meet Your Son
Modern I stood at the airport in a worn wool coat, shivering as I waited for the husband I hadn’t seen in seven years. My dented 2014 Camry sat idling nearby, a pathetic contrast to the sleek private jets lining the tarmac of Teterboro.
When the Gulfstream finally landed, Julian Sterling didn’t emerge alone. He stepped off the plane holding the hand of Serena Pembrooke, the flawless socialite who had been his "business partner" in Zurich for nearly a decade. He looked at me with the cold assessment of a stranger, his eyes bypassing the luxury SUVs to lock onto my fading paint and cracked phone screen.
Julian forced me to drive them, letting Serena claim the front seat while he watched me from the back like a hired chauffeur. When a minor traffic accident left me trembling in the middle of the FDR Drive, he didn't offer comfort; he took the wheel with a look of pure disappointment, treating me like an incompetent child.
"A quiet place for a mind like yours to rot," he whispered, mocking the simple life I had built in Queens.
The humiliation peaked at a high-society gala where Serena framed me for corporate espionage, accusing me of stealing code from Nebula—the very company I had built in secret. Julian stood by and watched as my reputation was shredded, his silence a deadlier weapon than Serena’s lies. He even went ring shopping for the Sterling family heirloom while I was being investigated by the police.
I couldn't understand how he could be so blind. He didn't know I was the lead architect of the AI firm he just invested in. Most importantly, he didn't know I was hiding his son—a six-year-old genius with Julian’s eyes and a lethal talent for hacking. To settle the debt for the car, I sold my mother’s last pearls and threw the check at his feet, finally ready to disappear from his world forever.
But as I walked away into the rain, Julian’s phone buzzed with a digitized threat from an anonymous source that stopped him cold.
"Stay away from my mother," the voice warned.
My son had just declared war on his father, and the secrets of the Aspen Scandal were finally about to explode, forcing Julian to realize that the wife he abandoned was the only person who could save his empire. His Cruel Love, My Broken Heart
Billionaires For three years, I was Bradley Porter's bodyguard. And his substitute. Tonight, I took a bullet for him, the wound in my shoulder still fresh.
But he didn't care. His assistant pulled me out of the hospital, my wound infected and feverish, because the woman I was a substitute for, Kylie Tyson, was back.
At the private airport, he embraced her with a love I had never seen.
Kylie looked me up and down with disdain. "Bradley, make her carry my luggage."
He saw my pale face, the bandage peeking from my collar, but his voice was sharp. "What are you waiting for? Get the luggage."
There were five large suitcases.
Just moments before, Kylie had faked a sprained wrist, and he had examined it with panicked concern. When I took a bullet for him, he just glanced at me and told his men to "clean up the mess."
That night, I went home and added another black stone to the glass jar on my dresser.
I made a promise to myself: for every time he hurt me, I would add a stone.
When the jar was full, I would leave him forever.
Tonight was stone number three hundred and sixty-eight.
The jar was almost half full. Never Again: A Wife's Resolve
Romance The first sign of trouble arrived as a notification on my phone.
It was a screenshot from my friend, Joanna, of my husband' s new executive assistant, Chloe Miller.
She was smiling brightly, her hand touching a diamond necklace sparkling against her skin.
A necklace I recognized immediately.
It was the star piece from an auction Liam had attended two nights ago, two million dollars.
He' d mentioned it was a "stunning piece of craftsmanship."
He just failed to mention who he was buying it for.
A quiet anger, cold and sharp, settled in my chest.
This wasn't about jealousy; it was about respect.
Our marriage was an arrangement, a merger of his new money ambition and my old money influence.
The foundational rule was simple: public respect.
Liam had just broken it.
I scrolled through the comments, gushing over her "amazing boss."
Chloe was actively fanning the flames of speculation.
It was a deliberate, public provocation.
I put my phone down, stood up, and walked calmly to the intercom.
"Please have Liam' s car brought to the front," I said.
My husband had forgotten who I was.
My family hadn't built their empire by being passive.
He was about to be reminded. When Loyalty Turns to Greed
Billionaires The promotion came with a dream office, a Seattle skyline view, and a salary that made my eyes water.
But it also came with Mrs. Jenkins, my personal assistant of five years, and the difficult conversation I had to have with her.
When I told her I was relocating and she' d have three months' severance, her warm smile froze.
"A recommendation and severance won' t be enough, Sarah," she declared, her voice flat, demanding a lifetime pension or my multi-million dollar condo.
I laughed, thinking it was a joke, but her dead-serious expression sent a chill down my spine.
She then morphed into a full-blown manipulator, blaming me for "ruining" her life and threatening to spread rumors in our tight-knit community.
The fight escalated from extortion to outright betrayal when her daughter, Emily, aided by a supposedly incarcerated ex-cop, illegally occupied my condo with a forged lease.
The police, thanks to the corrupt officer' s connections, shockingly classified it as a civil matter.
I felt outrage and disbelief that I was being targeted and dismissed, my property snatched by a family I had once trusted.
The unsettling truth hit me when I saw the "jailed" ex-cop, Kevin, laughing with Mrs. Jenkins and Emily in front of a real estate office, overhearing their plot to forge documents and steal my condo outright.
My rage turned to icy resolve; they had underestimated me.
I immediately contacted the FBI' s Public Corruption Unit, armed with concrete proof of their conspiracy, knowing this was no longer a petty dispute but a federal crime.
My decision to fight back was made. Her Quiet Fury
Romance For a decade, I played the role of Eleanor Vance, Senator Alistair Hayes' s wife.
I endured his icy indifference and his stepdaughter Brittany' s cruelties, clinging to the hope of a stable home for my daughter, Clara.
But at the annual charity gala, the illusion violently shattered.
Brittany, with a triumph in her eyes, forced me into her deceased mother' s gown, then publicly humiliated me by crushing a cherished locket I' d made for her with my own hands.
Alistair, far from defending me, stood by, his cold gaze stripping me bare, blaming me.
He had dangled Clara' s return as bait for my compliance, and now his lie was exposed, alongside my public shame.
My world, built on fragile hopes, crumbled.
I was nothing but an outsider, always second best to a ghost.
The raw injustice, the betrayal, and the horrifying truth of their manipulation ignited a quiet, chilling rage within me.
My efforts, my sacrifices, all for nothing.
So when Alistair, eager to control the narrative, suggested I 'disappear' for a 'break' at the remote family cabin, I agreed.
He thought I'd break and crawl back.
He didn't know Eleanor Hayes was already gone. Reborn in '83: His Forgotten Wife
Fantasy I woke up in 1983, miraculously young again, clinging to the hope that Mark, my husband of thirty years and partner in our theater supply business, would also be here, ready for our second chance together.
But the moment I found him at the community center dance, my world shattered: he looked at me like a complete stranger, then walked past, straight to Brattleboro's "golden girl," Tiffany Hayes, as if our intertwined history never existed.
He wasn't just indifferent; he had spent two years cultivating a new, ambitious life, actively pursuing Tiffany, then brazenly claimed my deepest creative work-an intricate theatrical gown concept-as his own in a public design competition.
His cruelty escalated when he publicly shamed me over a piece of chocolate in our local bakery and later tried to legally trap me in our small Vermont town with a fabricated non-compete clause, his malice a chilling contrast to the man I thought I knew.
How could the man I' d loved for three decades, the one I had mourned and hoped to rebuild a life with, so utterly forget, betray, and aggressively try to destroy me, turning our sacred past into a weapon of bitter cruelty?
From that profound agony, a new, fiery determination ignited: I would reclaim my talent, prove my worth, and independently forge an extraordinary New York life, establishing my own success story far from his toxic shadow. From Boardroom Betrayal to Billions
Billionaires Sarah Miller, the uncredited engineering genius and 65% majority shareholder of NextGen Innovations, knew this meeting at a high-end Silicon Valley steakhouse was pivotal, poised to secure a game-changing deal with Synapse Corp's CEO, a company she allowed her husband, Mike, to publicly lead.
Just as the deal was nearing completion, Mike stumbled through the restaurant entrance, visibly incoherent and draped over his executive assistant, Chloe Sanders, who was clinging to him and cackling, making a spectacle for the entire power-lunch crowd.
Spotting Sarah, Mike's drunken bravado twisted into pure accusation, shouting, "Sarah! What are you doing here? Spying on me?", while Chloe chimed in with, "She just gets so insecure, you know?", turning a critical business negotiation into a humiliating public circus.
A cold knot of disbelief and fury tightened in Sarah's stomach, as she watched the deal of a lifetime, years of her relentless efforts, and her professional integrity crumble because of her husband's grotesque betrayal and his assistant's conniving insolence.
As Mr. Peterson raised an eyebrow in polite concern and Chloe audaciously lashed out at him directly, Sarah made a decision: she looked Mike dead in the eye and, her voice devoid of all emotion, declared, "We need to talk. At home. About a divorce." Stolen Destiny: The Ivy League Lie
Modern The Yale scholarship email glowed on my screen, a testament to years of grueling work and quiet ambition.
I, Emily, had finally achieved my dream, a full ride to an Ivy League.
But my triumph shattered when my older brother, Mike, stormed in, his eyes blazing with a fury I’d never seen directed at me.
He accused me of stealing my adopted sister Sophia’s destiny, blinded by her manipulative claims of having her ‘luck stolen’ and a fabricated illness.
His rage escalated, culminating in a brutal attack in a remote cabin, where he bound me, then deliberately cut my arm with a hunting knife.
Knowing full well I suffer from real hemophilia, he left me there, miles from anywhere, to bleed out, dismissing my desperate pleas as mere dramatics.
My own parents, swayed by Sophia’s charade, tragically remained unaware of my brother's monstrous act.
How could the brother who once vowed to protect me now be trying to kill me?
Every drop of my blood pooling on the cabin floor was a testament to their chilling deception and my utter helplessness.
Was I truly doomed to die for a lie he believed and a future she coveted?
Yet, from the depths of despair, an unexpected tool emerged – a Swiss Army knife Mike himself had given me, ironically, for protection.
This wasn't an end; it was the beginning of my fight back, a meticulous plan to expose their heinous truth and reclaim my life. The Day My Daughter Lied: I Knew My Marriage Was Over
Modern Dying, physically and emotionally bankrupt, I watched my wife, a celebrated Air Force Major, accept an award. Decades sacrificed for her career and our daughter, Lily, had cost me everything.
Katherine praised her unit’s psychologist, Dr. Vance, as her “confidant,” utterly ignoring me. Then Lily’s chilling bedside whisper: “Mom and Dr. Vance are so good together. Maybe let go. So Mom can finally be happy with him.” My heart gave out. Darkness.
I jolted awake, young and healthy, reborn 20 years earlier in 1993. A second chance! Yet the betrayal replayed. Katherine planned her Greenland deployment with Vance. Soon, Lily, barely six, clung to Vance, asking, “Can Dr. Vance be my new dad?” My world crumbled.
The betrayals escalated. At school, Lily publicly introduced Vance as her “Dad.” The ultimate blow: after Lily fell (due to Vance’s neglect), she lied. “It was Dad’s fault! Dr. Vance saved me!” Katherine raged, “You did this on purpose! You’re a failure!” This was a cold, calculated erasure.
My past agony solidified my resolve. “Fine,” I stated, emotionless, “Let Dr. Vance be her father then.” I walked straight to the courthouse and filed for divorce. The doormat they knew was gone. The man who dreamed of piloting jets was finally flying. This time, I'd reclaim *my* life. Falling Into Love's Trap
Billionaires I'm an easily fooled little fool.
Today, I received a scam text message.
The sender wanted me to seduce Isonstinthe richest man and then dump him, promising to give me one hundred million after I succeeded.
Heh, I'm a little fool, but I'm not really an idiot.
I randomly replied to him, "I've experienced it; the other party's stamina isn't great."
The next moment, I received a bank transfer notification for fifty million, with a note saying it was a deposit.
Well, that's not too bad.
Later, there were indescribable activities below the neck that lasted until late at night. Connor gently wiped away the tears from the corner of my eye.
"Melina, am I good enough now?" You might like
The Unwanted Wife's Flawless Spectacular Comeback
Hansiain Finley-moise For four years, Ellyn was the scarred, despised wife of billionaire Baron Hudson, enduring his cruelty with silent devotion.
But one night, after brutally forcing himself on her, he threw divorce papers at her bruised chest.
"Did you really think I could ever stomach looking at that hideous face of yours for the rest of my life?"
He kicked her out into the freezing rain because his flawless true love, Christine, was finally coming home.
To ensure Ellyn suffered, Baron froze all her bank accounts, wanting her to starve on the streets until she begged for his mercy.
Penniless and shivering in a rundown apartment, Ellyn discovered she was pregnant with his child, right as the news broadcasted him lovingly welcoming Christine at the airport.
Her heart died completely. She had given him ten years of her life, only to be thrown away like garbage.
But a shocking miracle happened: the intimate trauma had somehow triggered a biological cure, completely peeling away the ugly scar that had ruined her face for twenty years.
If the ruthless Hudson family found out she was healed and carrying the heir, they would steal her baby and destroy her.
Instead of taking his five-million-dollar hush money, Ellyn tore the contract to pieces, hid her newly flawless face, and vanished to Paris.
Four years later, the Hudson family's grand banquet was brought to a dead halt by a stunning, untouchable woman in a red trench coat and her genius three-year-old son.
Ellyn was back, and she wasn't the ugly duckling anymore. The Jilted Heiress's Ruthless Billionaire Revenge
Gray Matter For five years, I abandoned my status as the heiress of the powerful Montgomery family to play the role of a poor, submissive housewife for Barrett.
Then, a bank notification popped up on my phone. Barrett had forged my digital signature and transferred our entire $50 million joint trust fund to a woman named Crista Reid.
When I called his boardroom to confront him, he humiliated me in front of a dozen Wall Street executives.
"Stop acting like a hysterical housewife. You're living in a penthouse I pay for, so don't embarrass yourself."
I broke into his encrypted laptop and uncovered the sickening truth. Crista was his mistress, and they had a five-year-old son together.
Barrett hadn't just stolen my money; he had spent years painting me as a helpless charity case he rescued, completely erasing the fact that my financial models built his entire company.
He thought I was just a discarded peasant he could manipulate, cheat on, and replace. He truly believed he held absolute power over my life.
He had no idea that I still possessed the highest security clearance of the Montgomery empire.
I pulled an old BlackBerry from a hidden wall compartment, plugged it in, and dialed my family's lawyer.
"Draft the prenup for Commodore Clayton IV," I ordered, choosing to marry Wall Street's most ruthless predator. "I'm done playing the peasant." The Jilted Wife's Spectacular Billionaire Comeback
Zhi Yao For ten years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to my wealthy husband, managing his severe OCD and hosting flawless high-society parties.
But on our tenth anniversary, when I brought him his special hangover soup, I caught him sleeping with my younger sister in our master bedroom.
Instead of panicking, he coldly handed me divorce papers with zero assets. He told me I was just a "placeholder" until my sister finished her degree and was ready to take my spot.
Desperate, I called my mother for help, only to find out she had known about their affair for years.
"You don't have Jana's drive or her looks. You clean house and you cook. That's not a wife, that's a domestic."
My own mother sneered at me, telling me to walk away quietly because our family needed his financial support.
They kicked me out of the penthouse with nothing but a suitcase, laughing that a woman who hadn't worked in a decade would end up begging on the streets.
I bled for this family for ten years, only to be thrown away like garbage when my sister wanted my life.
But they didn't know that while I was playing the boring housewife, I had secretly earned a Cordon Bleu diploma, a Cornell nutrition certification, and a Columbia master's degree.
Using a hidden photo to blackmail a property out of him, I packed my elite credentials and landed a $300,000-a-year job managing a billionaire's estate.
When my ex-husband drunkenly called days later demanding I come back to serve him, I calmly hit block. From Prison To Power: Rise Of The War Goddess
Black Knight Scarlett Hayes thought marrying James Whitmore would finally make her family see her as more than a burden.
Instead, it destroyed her life.
Framed for crimes she didn't commit, betrayed by the people she trusted most, and sentenced to prison while pregnant, Scarlett lost everything in a single night.
Then came the cruelest blow of all.
After giving birth in chains, she was told her baby had died.
The people responsible believed she would spend the rest of her life rotting behind bars.
They were wrong.
Five years later, Scarlett returns.
No longer the discarded daughter of the Hayes family. No longer the broken woman they left behind.
Now she is Commander Scarlett Hayes-a decorated war hero, the unseen force behind a global intelligence empire, and a woman powerful enough to make governments tremble.
She comes back for one reason only: revenge.
Her ex-husband, the stepsister who stole her life, and the family who buried her alive are about to learn exactly what happens when a woman with nothing left to lose takes back everything they stole.
But as Scarlett tears through the secrets of her past, one truth threatens to change everything-
the child she mourned for years may not be dead.
And the mysterious man connected to the night that changed her life has been watching from the shadows all along. Sir, She's Gone With Their Daughter And Never Returns
Leanora Tanouye My four-year-old daughter was dying of leukemia, waiting desperately for a bone marrow transplant.
I begged my billionaire husband to just call the registry or visit her, but he claimed he was too busy with board meetings to care.
Until the hospital informed me that my daughter's life-saving bone marrow had been suddenly reallocated to another patient.
When I walked down the VIP hallway, I found my husband.
He wasn't at a board meeting. He was gently peeling an apple, playing the loving father to his widowed mistress's daughter.
When my pale, sick daughter called out for him, he instinctively stepped back in disgust.
I later discovered the mistress had bribed the hospital to swap the registry numbers, stealing my daughter's marrow for her own child.
When I demanded a divorce, my husband laughed in my face.
"You haven't worked a day in four years. You're a purchased asset. You don't get to walk away."
He threatened to freeze my accounts, assuming I would be starving on the streets and begging to come back.
His family and the mistress publicly mocked my background, waiting for me to be utterly humiliated.
They thought I was just a useless, penniless housewife who relied entirely on his last name to survive.
They didn't know I never needed a single cent of his money.
I packed my bags, took my daughter, and made a single phone call.
Three days later, at his family's elite banquet, my husband waited to see me beg.
Instead, the most powerful corporate magnate in North America walked right past him, bowed to me at a perfect ninety-degree angle, and spoke.
"Welcome back to the throne, Madam." The Divorced Genius Wife Returns For Revenge
Xiao Ye Sloane Sinclair-Carlisle died in a fiery car crash, only to wake up in the weak, broken body of a girl named Nina White.
Before she could process her rebirth, a torrent of tragic memories flooded her mind. Nina had written the genius code that saved her husband Doug's tech company from bankruptcy.
But instead of gratitude, Doug stole her life's work, presented the billion-dollar algorithm as his own, and drove the desperate girl to swallow a bottle of sleeping pills.
"Nina, I swear to God, if you don't open this door in one minute, I'm kicking it down! I don't have time for your drama!"
Doug was pounding on the door, aggressively demanding she sign the divorce papers so he could marry his high-school sweetheart.
Downstairs, his mother and sister casually sipped tea, mocking Nina as a worthless beggar who was finally being thrown out.
They were celebrating their impending wealth, fully believing they could just erase her and leave her with absolutely nothing.
They thought they had completely crushed a timid, helpless victim.
They had no idea the soul now inhabiting this body belonged to a cold, unforgiving predator.
Sloane threw away the suicide note, put on a bold red dress, and decisively signed the net-zero divorce agreement.
She slapped the papers in front of her arrogant ex-husband and walked out into the night, ready to build her own empire and watch his stolen company burn to the ground. My Accidental Billionaire husband
Favor V April They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, mine didn't.
I came back with a marriage certificate bearing a stranger's name, a ring worth more than my parents' love ever was, and a son whose father I've never seen, never known, never remembered.
I went to Vegas for a racing competition. I won. I celebrated. And somewhere between the victory and the sunrise, my life changed forever.
For six years, I've lived with the consequences of one reckless night. I built an empire. I raised my son. And I searched for the man who changed my life without even knowing it.
Then fate laughed in my face.
My sister married my ex-fiancé-the man I was promised to since childhood. The man I was supposed to become Mrs. Windsor for. The man who now wears my family name... and looks far too much like my child.
Every time I'm near him, the past presses closer. Every glance feels like a question I'm terrified to ask. I shouldn't notice him. I shouldn't feel anything. He is my sister's husband.
But some secrets refuse to stay buried.
Because the truth about Vegas isn't just in the ring on my finger or the child in my arms.
It's standing right in front of me.
And when it finally comes out, it won't just destroy a marriage, it will burn an empire to the ground.
Marrying My Ex's Powerful Billionaire Uncle
Yuan Xiluo On my wedding day, my fiancé Connor received an urgent phone call.
He told me a D-list actress had broken her leg on set, then abandoned me right at the altar.
In my past life, I cried until my throat bled, begging him not to leave.
But my tears only brought endless humiliation. My mother and adopted sister mocked me, framed me, and forged my signature to steal my multi-million dollar trust fund.
They kicked me out of the family estate without a single dime.
I ended up freezing to death in the minus-twenty-degree New York blizzard, listening to my mother's voicemail telling me to die in the street as long as I didn't bleed on her carpets.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why my own blood relatives hated me so much, yet treated an adopted daughter like a precious princess.
The only person who showed me any mercy—draping his wool coat over my frozen corpse and giving me a proper burial—was Connor's ruthless, untouchable uncle, Harding Snow.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in the bridal suite, right as Connor was rushing out the door.
This time, I didn't shed a single tear.
I let him run to his actress, then walked straight into the VIP room to face the most feared billionaire on Wall Street.
"The wedding proceeds as planned, but the groom's name changes to yours." Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle
Natala O'neal To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle - the most formidable man Kevin fears.
After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms.
"You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive.
Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street - elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it.
When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her?
All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss.
When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply.
"Call her Aunt." 
/1/113888/coverorgin.jpg?v=ab735e3e65cef00191b353b882df2106&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/120448/coverorgin.jpg?v=2e709170bdb74d6662b431ee1c602070&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114279/coverorgin.jpg?v=99e441d4d2023648623281ac8c7ddaab&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104761/coverorgin.jpg?v=103e8cdf66acadd292cc24560087527e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/95230/coverorgin.jpg?v=79e4abc38ff18de5279963ebbcbf31a7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/90623/coverorgin.jpg?v=d204ae2976ccceef799d8817c8c3025a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86624/coverorgin.jpg?v=e279815d7444d28d832d590bb03c9c55&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85360/coverorgin.jpg?v=38951032fce696b93ee81d77d40fdb64&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83068/coverorgin.jpg?v=4a44c0e3db43ce895430e275a409d3be&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82910/coverorgin.jpg?v=a89dc1366cfbbdef7368594d922aeab9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82663/coverorgin.jpg?v=ea601acdbbd834fe12c04f70e9b69ba1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80518/coverorgin.jpg?v=371da0f62b26fa8f547e501cfd314c43&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80016/coverorgin.jpg?v=348675f092fbc87b045c557f770fb51f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/61152/coverorgin.jpg?v=88950379122408d11de3088f99e0ce34&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/116902/coverorgin.jpg?v=5ec849e17caebd2f54102309e9f8b302&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113767/coverorgin.jpg?v=ef92ad258359ec0273435f960ced7576&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114057/coverorgin.jpg?v=59ba4975471bd2fb60e3a2010fe30d03&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114351/coverorgin.jpg?v=2c44d9a51e1f38a5816fd5a47ec3abce&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113311/coverorgin.jpg?v=7dbfb682cc0ef3c12317e41349eed588&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/118227/coverorgin.jpg?v=d81e870ba5f291c655313697ed34db27&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112007/coverorgin.jpg?v=a50eb2275df9d10a1189d151a3617521&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113686/coverorgin.jpg?v=926eeca7aabaea83c3352aae4c43d734&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/108391/coverorgin.jpg?v=ef3a9222f11f4dc3dd86c70721aba793&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/110451/coverorgin.jpg?v=2820de6fa805c709de688f2d653ccf9e&imageMogr2/format/webp)