Tabbie Platt
16 Published Stories
Tabbie Platt's Books and Stories
Reborn Heiress: His Regret, Her Reign
Billionaires Emily Winston, heiress to the powerful Winston Media Group, led a seemingly perfect life, engaged to Ethan Hawke, the charismatic heir of Hawke Energy.
Their corporate fairy tale shattered when she discovered Ethan in their marital bed with Sophia Bell, her father's illegitimate daughter.
Despite his tearful pleas, the betrayal ran deep. Ethan’s resentment, fueled by his belief Emily orchestrated Sophia’s quiet exile, poisoned their marriage and her very existence.
Corporate sabotage followed: leaked secrets, crumbling strategies, her family's empire ravaged. Her beloved grandfather and frail mother withered under the immense stress, gone too soon.
Emily herself met a brutal end, run down by a truck on a rain-slicked street, the very day she learned she was pregnant.
A life stolen, a legacy destroyed—a cruel cosmic joke. Why had her love, her loyalty, been met with such utter devastation?
But then, she woke up, back on her 25th birthday, gifted an impossible second chance.
This time, Emily would rewrite her story, protect her family, and forge a new destiny.
Yet, across the opulent ballroom, her eyes met Ethan Hawke’s, and a chilling, stark recognition flickered in their depths.
He remembered. He had reborned too.
This changed everything. Died as His Luna, Returned as His Nightmare
Werewolf I was the Luna of the pack, but my mate, Alpha Hardin, chose to believe the venomous lies of my supposed best friend, Estella.
She framed me with hidden wolfsbane and a fabricated miscarriage, playing the perfect victim.
Without a second thought, Hardin looked at me with eyes of frozen steel and publicly rejected me as his mate.
"I, Hardin Preston, reject you, Elara Gardner, as my mate."
Stripped of my title and dignity, I was left to rot in a freezing, threadbare hovel.
My inner wolf went silent, and I coughed up blood alone, clutching a small wooden wolf carved for the baby I would never get to hold.
When the guards finally found my cold, lifeless body, Estella shed fake tears, putting on a magnificent performance of grief to win the pack's heart and seal my coffin with her fabricated generosity.
I gave him my entire soul, yet he couldn't see through her toxic facade, leaving me to die with nothing but the agonizing snap of our severed bond.
But the Moon Goddess didn't let my story end there.
When I opened my eyes again, it was a full year later, and I was in the body of Kaitlin Padilla, a frail, wolfless noble girl.
Looking at my new reflection, a cold resolve extinguished the last embers of my grief.
And when a royal messenger arrived, forcing me to attend Alpha Hardin's new mate selection, my lips curled into a chilling smile.
I am coming for you both, and I will take back everything you stole from me. He Stole My Blueprint, I Stole His Empire
Mafia I was the hidden architect behind the Moretti mafia family's billion-dollar empire. My capo fiancé, Gianni, used to bring me coffee and murmur grand promises of protection.
But at two in the morning, he sent a blunt text demanding my master decryption keys. Attached was a photo of his new fiancée, the Underboss's niece, wearing a massive blood diamond bought with my hard work.
He had coldly dumped me, claiming my independence was a defect for a mafia wife. Now, he was presenting my flawless smuggling blueprint to the Commission, listing himself as the mastermind and his new prize as the architect. My name was completely scrubbed from the records.
He actually expected me to quietly hand over the core security codes so he wouldn't look like a fool in front of the bosses. He treated me like a disposable tool, meant to bleed for a syndicate that stole my genius to enrich a parasite.
"Port logistics keys. Now. Francesca is having a fit and I have to deal with it."
I stared at his arrogant message, a creeping chill of absolute rage washing over me. He really thought I would just obediently submit and watch him build his kingdom on my back.
I looked at the chat window where my habitual "Yes, Capo" was already typed.
I deleted it.
Instead, I snapped my burner phone in half, packed my original files, and took my master blueprint straight to the most feared Don in the underworld. He Took the Cure,I Became the Legend
Werewolf I was attacked by Rogues on border patrol and severely poisoned by silver rain.
I dragged my burning body back to the packhouse, expecting my boyfriend of five years, the future Alpha, to save me.
Instead, Jason just complained that I was tracking mud on his expensive leather shoes.
He went straight to the medicine cabinet and took all three of our remaining magical healing potions.
I begged him to leave just one vial for me, as the silver poison was literally boiling my blood.
"Stop behaving like a fragile Omega," he snapped.
Then, he left to give all the life-saving potions to his Beta secretary, Chloe.
Her life-threatening emergency? She had caught a slight chill from walking to her car in the rain.
As I lay dying on the living room rug, I heard him mind-link her, promising to buy her a limited-edition sports car to comfort her.
The five years of love and loyalty I had given him instantly turned to dust.
He assumed I would just swallow the humiliation, thinking I was throwing a childish tantrum to get his attention.
But as my ancient White Wolf bloodline miraculously awakened to heal my ruined body, my heart went completely cold.
I didn't cry or beg him to look at me again.
I packed my bags, officially severed my bond with his pack, and walked right into the arms of my true Fated Mate. The Unwanted Omega's Hidden Royal Blood
Werewolf For six years, I was the secret Omega mate of Jackson, the future Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack.
He kept me hidden in the slums, terrified my low status would ruin his flawless reputation.
During the full moon festival, I fell into a Rogue's brutal trap.
Instead of saving me, my Fated Mate hesitated at the edge of the ravine, turned his back, and walked away to flirt with a high-ranking Beta female.
Because of his choice, I lay screaming in the cold mud, and our unborn pup died before it ever truly lived.
When I woke up in the hospital, he didn't apologize.
"Everyone was watching. I cannot risk my standing by diving into a ditch for a clumsy Omega."
He gladly accepted my mate rejection, mocking that I would never survive in this world without him.
A month later, after digging through my medical records, he finally discovered I had been pregnant.
He cornered me on the street, demanding I return to the pack to protect his royal heir.
I slapped the fetal demise consent form against his chest, watching his arrogant certainty shatter into pieces.
He murdered his own child for his vanity, yet he still believed he could command me to come back.
But I was no longer the pathetic Omega he had discarded.
My hidden royal White Wolf blood had awakened, and Dominic, the most powerful Alpha in North America, had just claimed me as his Second Chance Mate.
This time, I would watch Jackson rot in the dirt. Jilted Ex? I'm The Lost Heiress
Modern I sat in the corner booth of a high-end restaurant, clutching a velvet-wrapped box to celebrate the multi-million dollar funding I had just secured for our company.
My boyfriend, Wayne, finally walked in forty-five minutes late, but he wasn't alone. My best friend Jessica was clinging to his arm, her hand resting protectively over a twelve-week baby bump.
"We’re breaking up, Lana," Wayne said, refusing to even look at me. "Jessica fits the image of a CEO’s wife better. Investors want pedigree, and your orphan background is a liability for the IPO."
When I refused to hand over my patents for a measly severance check, the betrayal turned physical. His mother called me a "gutter rat" and threw a bowl of scalding soup onto my neck, while Wayne threatened to sue me for corporate espionage to ruin my reputation. They threw me out of the apartment I helped pay for, laughing as I stood on the sidewalk with nothing but a duffel bag and a burned shoulder.
I couldn't wrap my head around the cruelty. How could the man I built a pharmaceutical empire for treat me like a disposable parasite? Did they honestly believe I was a nameless nobody they could just erase after stealing my life’s work?
But as Wayne stepped out to mock me one last time, a fleet of silver Rolls Royces pulled up to the curb, boxing in his car and stopping traffic.
A man in white gloves stepped out and bowed deeply toward me.
"Welcome home, Miss Delacroix," he said, his voice echoing across the street. "Your parents have been waiting twenty years for this moment."
Wayne watched in frozen horror as I stepped into the luxury car, finally realizing that the "orphan" he had just discarded was actually the long-lost heir to the most powerful family in the country. Trapped By The Possessive Esports God
Modern I was a Twitch streamer who got publicly humiliated by my toxic ex-boyfriend during a live broadcast. To save face, I blurted out a massive lie.
I claimed that "Killer," the untouchable god of the esports world, was actively pursuing me. But just ten minutes after I panic-quit my stream, the doorbell rang, and the esports god himself was standing at my front door with a suitcase.
"I'm the new roommate. I have nowhere else to go," he said, looking like a lost golden retriever hiding from crazy fans.
He moved into my apartment, acting entirely sweet and helpless. He couldn't even put on a duvet cover, but he made me a perfect breakfast and gently cared for me when I got hurt. He looked so genuinely innocent that I felt sick with absolute guilt for using his name for internet clout. When my ex's fans organized a massive hate campaign against me, I aggressively tweeted back to protect my new roommate's honor, doubling down on my lie.
But I didn't understand why he immediately liked my tweet, sending the entire internet into a total meltdown. I thought he was just a pure, naive gamer following his manager's PR advice to defuse the drama.
I had no idea that behind his polite smile, he wasn't innocent at all. He was a ruthless, obsessive predator who had already manipulated his way into my home, and I had just locked myself in a cage with him. Mistaken Identity: Loving The Wrong Twin Sister
Mafia I replaced my twin sister in a marriage contract to the ruthless Mafia Don, Donovan Blackwood.
For three years, I was a ghost in his home, silently enduring his coldness while he flaunted his mistress, Chloe.
On the very last day of our contract, Chloe staged an accident.
Donovan didn't hesitate.
He forced me to drain my blood to save her life.
Then, to prove his loyalty to her, he drove me to the cliffs and pushed me into the freezing ocean.
He even locked me in a cellar infested with spiders—my deepest phobia—because she lied and said I threatened her.
He thought he was punishing the spoiled, arrogant Isabella.
He didn't know he was breaking Ava, the woman who had silently memorized his allergies and waited up for him in the dark every single night.
When I finally took my fifty million dollars and vanished, I left behind nothing but the divorce papers and a photo revealing the truth.
He tore the city apart, destroying my family to find me, only to realize he had tortured the wrong woman.
Now, he is standing on my porch in the pouring rain, staring in horror at the simple wooden ring on my finger given to me by another man.
He falls to his knees, begging for a chance to love the wife he tried to destroy.
I look at him, feeling absolutely nothing.
"It's too late, Donovan," I say, locking the door. "You killed her." He Called Off Our Forever
Modern Tonight, my boyfriend of seven years, Benjamin Kane, was supposed to propose. Our future was a perfect picture, planned down to the last detail.
But a single phone call shattered it all. A mysterious voice convinced him I was a gold digger who would ruin him, and that another woman, Jenna Christian, was his true soulmate.
He called off our engagement on the spot.
That was only the beginning of my nightmare. I was stalked by a man obsessed with Jenna, a confrontation that ended with me falling from a rooftop and shattering my arm. Then, I was kidnapped by a shady agency, trapped by a contract Jenna had signed in my name. I was living the horrific fate that was meant for her.
Benjamin, the man who promised me forever, abandoned me to suffer while defending the very woman who orchestrated my torment.
Lying in a hospital bed, I received an acceptance letter for a design scholarship in Paris. It was my only escape. I took it, leaving behind the man who broke me and the life he destroyed. Fatal Affair, Fated Love
Romance Three days before my wedding, I held the invitations, a bright future with Chloe Davis unfolding before me. I decided to surprise her at her final dress fitting, full of stupid, happy optimism.
But through the boutique window, I saw her with Ethan Miller, her "first love," the broke con artist I'd repeatedly paid off at Chloe's tearful request. Then, hidden in an alley, I heard their conversation: my meticulously planned life was a calculated scam.
She called me "pathetic," a "tool," a "walking ATM." She even bragged about how easy I was to manipulate. My five years of pouring everything into her-paying off her loans, buying her a car and her mother a condo, giving Ethan tens of thousands-all of it was a lie designed to extract every penny before she discarded me.
The invitations slipped from my numb fingers, scattering on the dirty asphalt as memories flooded back, each sweet moment now tainted with cold, cynical calculation. My heart, once full, was now a charred, worthless spot.
The most horrific truth came out when she intentionally crashed our car on the freeway, shattering my leg. She escaped untouched, called Ethan, and left me for dead, only to flaunt her Vegas trip with him on social media, using my credit card, while I fought for my life.
I was broken, not just by her betrayal, but by the realization that she hadn' t just hurt me; she had actively despised me, plotting to destroy me and even poisoning my mother to hasten my inheritance.
But I wouldn't just be used and discarded. No. This was no longer about a broken heart. This was about my mother. This was about justice. Forged In Fire: A Family's Fight
Modern My brother Andrew was our family's only hope, his Penn State scholarship a golden ticket out of this dead-end, rust-belt town.
But that dream shattered on the football field with a sickening crack, as Wesley Fowler, scion of the ruthless family who owned half the town, delivered a dirty, career-ending hit to Andrew's knee.
In the hospital, Wesley threw five hundred dollars at me, sneering that Andrew "should have known his place."
His goons later cornered me outside, shoving me against a brick wall, reminding me that "dead soldier's kids" were "nothing" and that the Fowlers "own the cops, the school, this whole damn town."
Our cries for justice were met with chilling indifference; the sheriff dismissed it as "boys will be boys," and the school revoked Andrew' s scholarship, citing false rumors and Lester Fowler's "donations."
An eviction notice appeared, a vicious online smear campaign painted us as violent thugs, and Andrew, once so full of life, withered in despair, whispering, "I wish I had died."
How could they get away with this, destroying an innocent life and crushing a family, simply because they were rich and powerful?
Drowning in a darkness so profound it felt like the end, I remembered my father' s Special Forces medals and his unit' s motto: "Leave no one behind."
My father's brothers in arms were our last hope, and I would drive a thousand miles to find them. When Loyalty Crumbles
Romance After a year overseas building a skyscraper that put our firm on the map, all I wanted was to get back home to my wife, Jenny.
But the moment I saw her at the airport, my world tilted; she was visibly pregnant, at least five months along, and the baby wasn't mine.
Her chilling explanation? It was her childhood friend Wes' s child, his "only chance," and she expected me to embrace this "sacrifice" as a twisted form of debt repayment for a "perfect marriage image."
Then, Wes moved into our home, a constant, smug reminder of my betrayal, culminating in Jenny slapping me and labeling me a "violent drunk" when I dared to defend myself against his taunts.
I couldn't fathom how the woman I loved could so coldly betray me and then blame me, but as I prepared to leave, I stumbled upon a flash drive she'd left, hinting at a truth far darker than I could imagine-a hidden plot that would force me to fight not for a broken marriage, but for her very safety. Stolen Genius, Reclaimed Fate
Young Adult My whole life was focused on one goal: Harvard.
I was Sarah Miller, the academic star, future astrophysicist, and that scholarship was my family's only way out of our small New England town.
Just days after acing another SAT practice test, my best friend Chloe, with her cheerleader ponytail swinging, handed me a shiny "friendship locket" for good luck.
Suddenly, my perfect scores plummeted, while Chloe' s, who usually struggled, inexplicably soared.
Then, a chilling conversation overheard outside the library confirmed my worst fears: Chloe and Ethan, my childhood friend and the boy I might have loved, had deliberately used the cursed antique locket from Mr. Abernathy' s shop to swap my academic luck for Chloe' s gain.
My actual SAT scores were a disaster, shattering my Harvard dream and my mother's hopes as her health faltered under the stress.
Ethan, to shield Chloe from a plagiarism charge, brazenly framed me, leading to my National Honor Society revocation, lost scholarships, and public humiliation as a "cheater."
Later, after Ethan rushed off to save Chloe, leaving me besieged by a vengeful clique vandalizing my car, he returned only to plant fabricated evidence that caused my mother to collapse.
How could my closest friends, who should have been my anchors, orchestrate such a cruel, calculated betrayal, then watch my life unravel without a flicker of remorse?
The injustice burned, transforming my despair into a cold, sharp rage.
They believed they had dealt with the 'naive bookworm' and that I would just "be fine."
They were profoundly mistaken. My revenge would begin by turning their own vile magic against them. The Unwanted Husband's Unexpected Power
Billionaires I had long embraced my role as the quiet, unremarkable husband, often ridiculed for supposedly failing at business and living off my wife, Brittany.
My marriage was a pact, a secret agreement with her father to save his struggling retail empire.
For years, I patiently endured Brittany’s public mockery, casual disrespect, and blatant infidelity with her personal trainer, Chad.
I let the stinging whispers of "kept man" wash over me, maintaining my carefully crafted facade.
But at tonight’s glittering charity ball, her cruelty escalated.
She shamelessly paraded Chad, then, scoffing at my "lack of ambition," she dramatically produced divorce papers.
In front of high society, she thrust them into my hands, sneering that I was a burden and she never wanted me.
The room erupted in snickers, the crowd visibly reveling in my supposed humiliation, assuming I would beg.
They believed I was truly a nobody, a pathetic freeloader, easily discarded.
Years of my patience, enduring this charade for a sacred promise, vanished in that moment.
Their smug faces, her utter betrayal—did she truly believe I was the penniless man she so gleefully cast aside?
I calmly accepted the divorce, a decision that visibly stunned everyone in the ballroom.
Then, during the ongoing charity auction, as she brazenly flaunted her wealth, I began to subtly bid against her, defying her by one dollar at a time.
I had given her countless chances, but tonight, something truly had to break.
My carefully constructed facade finally shattered, and it was time for them all to witness the true identity of the man they had been so arrogantly mocking. At Twenty Weeks, He Faked My Miscarriage
Billionaires For a decade, I was Amelia Ross, the Upper East Side's most publicly humiliated wife.
Page Six kept a running tally of my husband Jared Sterling's affairs, a humiliating "Sterling's Scorecard."
My entire independent design career, my peace of mind, even my very identity, had been sacrificed to protect the Sterling family's gilded facade.
Then, with surgical cruelty, Jared orchestrated a "routine check-up" during my twenty-week pregnancy.
It ended not with a healthy heartbeat, but a fabricated miscarriage report and a hefty gag order.
"You're not fit to carry a Sterling heir," he sneered, tossing the paperwork at me as he celebrated with Kendra Bell, his latest "passion muse."
My heart, already a mosaic of fractures from 99 prior betrayals, shattered into dust.
While Jared and Kendra toasted their "undying love," my baby was gone, a life stolen, and my agony dismissed as inconvenient.
The public, his family, even Jared himself, expected me to collapse, to beg for forgiveness, to cling to the wreckage of our marriage like I always had.
They expected tears, desperation, and another humiliating plea.
But the hundredth cut didn't break me; it forged me anew.
From that moment on, I didn't just walk away; I turned the page, ready to build an empire of my own, free from the Sterling name, ready to redefine what "Amelia Ross" truly meant. You might like
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 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." Trick Him Into Divorce, Then Flee With His Unknow Kid
Rashmi For seven years, Rose Bennett was Ryan Knight's secret wife.
While all of New York believed Samantha Hikk would become Mrs. Knight, Rose silently endured a cold marriage to a man who never loved her.
Until one night, Samantha is rushed into Rose's emergency room pregnant. and Ryan is the one protecting her.
That is the night Rose stops loving him.
What Ryan never knew was that Rose had already given birth to his daughter years ago after he rejected both mother and child without hesitation.
So Rose walks away-with only two suitcases, a hidden daughter, and the shattered remains of seven years.
But the woman Ryan abandoned is no ordinary wife.
Rose is the hidden genius behind Aetheris Medical AI, the revolutionary system about to change the entire medical world.
As Rose rises to the top, becoming untouchable, powerful, and impossible to replace, Ryan finally realizes the devastating truth-
He didn't lose a woman who loved him.
He lost the only woman he would ever love.
And by then, even their daughter no longer calls him father. I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Jessica C. Dolan Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé.
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he's not letting me go. 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. Sexy Behind The Mask
Ellie Wynters She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith-the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room-Manhattan's most exclusive masked club-she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you." 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.
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." 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." 
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