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The Superstar's Obsession: My Unwanted Husband
Romance I am a D-list actress with a terrible reputation and thousands of haters.
But my real nightmare started when I got blackout drunk in Vegas and woke up next to Evander Byers, the untouchable, scandal-free superstar.
Before I could even find my clothes, our parents barged into the hotel suite with a wall of corporate lawyers.
Evander, the supposed god of the entertainment industry, played the victim perfectly.
"She dragged me in here last night. I couldn't stop her."
Under the crushing threat of my father freezing my bank accounts and the lawyers protecting Evander's pure image, I was forced to sign a marriage contract.
Now, this manipulative monster has moved into my penthouse, claiming his legal rights as my fiancé.
He controls my space, suffocates me with his dark obsession, and watches my bank balance drop to zero.
Everyone thinks he is a flawless angel, but I know he is just a hypocritical control freak.
I refuse to be his prisoner.
Desperate for cash and an escape route, I secretly signed a contract for a trashy reality dating show.
I thought a closed set in Hawaii would be the perfect place to hide from him, make millions, and ruin my toxic ex on national television.
I packed my bags, thinking I had outsmarted the devil.
But I didn't know that Evander had just canceled his global tour to call the network executives.
The ultimate predator just bought his way into the cast, ready to hunt his runaway fiancée in front of the whole world. Rising From The Ashes Of Betrayal
Modern I spent my whole life trying to fit into the "Kensington aesthetic," dyeing my hair blonde and playing dumb just to earn a crumb of my father's approval. But when the manor went up in flames, I realized I was never a daughter to them-I was just an inconvenience.
I lay pinned under a heavy oak beam, the smell of copper and burnt sugar filling my lungs. My father, Arthur, stood in the doorway with my brothers, looking like a phalanx of saviors, but their eyes weren't on me.
They rushed past my outstretched, bloody hand to save my sister, Karly, who was huddled in a corner without a scratch on her. My brother Archer scooped her up like spun glass, stepping over my crushed leg without a second glance. Just before they crossed the threshold, Karly looked back at me and smiled-a small, victorious, terrifying smile. My father didn't offer help; he just shouted that I was an arsonist and slammed the door, sentencing me to burn alive in my own bedroom.
As the crystal chandelier melted and crashed toward me, I didn't feel fear anymore. I felt a guttural, distilled hate for the family that left me to die because of a lie. I had spent my life begging for scraps at a table that was never meant for me, and I died realizing they never loved me at all.
"If I come back," I promised into the void, "I will burn you all down."
I gasped for air and woke up in my bed, the smell of lavender replacing the smoke. It was September 14th, five years before the fire, the exact week I had started ruining myself to please them. I looked in the mirror, scrubbed off the pathetic makeup mask, and realized the old, desperate Kala was dead. If I was going to burn, I'd make sure they were the ones who felt the heat first.
"Queen is back online," I whispered. Broken Vows, True Hearts
Romance When my vision finally returned, I realized the man I had married was actually my boyfriend's younger brother, Hurst Owen.
Meanwhile, Brady Owen, who had promised to end all ties with his ideal love, Betty Kirk, was actually next door with her all along.
That night, I overheard their conversation.
Hurst frowned. "Brady, Della lost her sight because of you. Do you think that's fair to her?"
Brady replied impatiently, "Just wait another month. Once Betty is taken care of, I'll be back."
"It's been ten years. Aren't you afraid I might genuinely fall in love with Della?"
"Your marriage is fake. Don't entertain thoughts you shouldn't have!"
I silently returned to bed, without revealing to anyone that my sight had returned.
On the twenty-ninth day, I took Hurst to get the marriage certificate.
Honestly, I still wanted to continue being Hurst's wife. Rising From Ashes: My Reincarnated Love
Modern Cora Foster was a brilliant archaeologist, but a jagged burn scar across her face made the world treat her like a contagious monster.
During an elite excavation of a Gilded Age crypt, touching an ancient artifact triggered a terrifying memory. She remembered being Seraphina Beaumont, a socialite brutally buried alive by her vain, cruel sister, Isolde.
When the team pried open the crypt's pristine mahogany casket, they cheered, believing the mummified corpse inside was Seraphina. But Cora recognized the onyx hairpin and the angular jawline. It was Isolde. The sister who had stolen her life, mocked her agony, and left her to suffocate in the dark. Her colleagues scoffed at her forensic proof, dismissing her as a scarred, delusional liability.
Worse, the ruthless billionaire funding the expedition, Julian Montgomery, was the spitting image of Alistair—the man Seraphina had deeply loved. Why was Julian staring at her ruined face with such intense, inexplicable recognition? And why did Isolde take Seraphina's most precious silver ring to the grave?
Driven by a century of agonizing grief, Cora secretly pried the tarnished ring from the mummy's stiff, dead fingers and dropped it into her pocket.
"What are you looking at, Foster?"
Julian's deep voice vibrated inches from her ear, his cold, predatory eyes locked directly onto her half-open pocket. Reborn From Ashes: The Mafia Bride's Revenge
Mafia I was the daughter of a loyal Mafia Capo, arranged to marry the Underboss of the Moretti family. But I gave my heart to his brother, Marco, who promised to break the betrothal and protect me.
When I went into premature labor in a freezing, abandoned warehouse, Marco didn't come to save me. He sent my cousin, Caitlin.
With a mocking smile, she told me Marco despised my "filthy Irish blood" and that my pregnancy was just a temporary amusement.
Then, she pulled out a hunting knife.
She pinned me down, sliced my abdomen open, and smothered my newborn baby right in front of my eyes.
"He agreed that this inconvenience needs to be removed," she whispered.
She revealed that she and Marco had orchestrated my father's murder to secure Mafia shipping routes. Then, she casually knocked over a kerosene lantern, locking the heavy metal door to let me and my dead child burn to ash.
While they headed to a high-society gala to celebrate my "accidental" death and their new power, I lay in the roaring flames.
As the fire blistered my skin and I held my baby's lifeless body, my suffocating despair froze into a razor-sharp rage. My entire life, my family, and my love had been built on their calculated lies.
But they made one fatal mistake. I didn't die in that inferno.
I dragged my ruined body out of the ashes, wrapped myself in a blood-soaked coat, and walked straight into their celebration banquet to become their goddamn reckoning. The Unwanted Omega: Rejected for His Mistress
Werewolf I was the Alpha's Fated Mate, yet I lived in the mansion as an unpaid servant while he played house with his mistress.
For five years, Emilio refused to mark me, claiming my wolf was too weak to bear an heir.
But on the night of the Gala, everything shattered.
His mistress's son accused me of hitting him. Without asking for the truth, Emilio unleashed his Alpha power on me.
He slammed me into a buffet table to protect a lying child.
I lay in the broken glass, feeling the life inside me—the baby I hadn't told him about yet—slip away in a pool of blood.
Instead of helping me, Emilio stepped over my body to comfort his mistress.
"Clean this mess up," he barked at the guards, leaving me to die.
Heartbroken, I tricked him into signing divorce papers disguised as tax forms and prepared to leave.
But his mistress wasn't satisfied. She paid rogues with Emilio's own family silver to throw me off a cliff into the freezing river.
They thought the weak Omega would drown.
They were wrong.
The icy water didn't kill me; it awakened the Ancient White Wolf dormant in my blood.
Three years later, I returned not as a ghost, but as a Queen.
Emilio knelt in the snow, weeping and begging for another chance.
I looked down at him, my eyes glowing gold, and smiled cold.
"I reject you, Emilio Thomas." The Day My Love For Him Died
Modern On my birthday, my husband Jensen gave the Logan Star, a priceless family heirloom promised to me, to his widowed sister-in-law, Isabella.
It wasn't just a gift. It was a public declaration. Isabella was pregnant with his child-the heir I had failed to provide.
His mother, the family matriarch, then announced I was to be moved from our master suite to a smaller wing to give Isabella the space and comfort she "deserved."
Jensen just stood there, telling me to be "reasonable" for the sake of the family legacy. He had chosen his bloodline over our marriage, over me.
He had promised to always choose me, but in that moment, I realized I was just a placeholder, easily discarded for a more "fertile" option. The love I had for him died, replaced by a cold, quiet resolve.
So I smiled, agreed to everything, and walked away. That night, I boarded my private yacht. As it exploded in a fiery wreck at sea, with the world believing I was dead, my father received a single text from me: "It's time." The divorce was final, and the destruction of the Logan empire had just begun. His Cruelty, Her Comeback
Romance My husband, Bennet, was my hero.
Three years ago, his stalker, Gianna, crippled my drawing hand, ending my career as an architect. Bennet promised me justice, locking her away in a remote cabin to suffer for her crime.
On our fifth wedding anniversary, I went to the county office to update my records.
The clerk looked at me with pity. "Ma'am, our records show you were divorced three years ago. Your ex-husband, Bennet Crosby, remarried on the same day."
The name she read next shattered my world: Gianna Skinner.
The punishment was a lie.
Their prison was a lover's paradise.
For three years, he lived a double life, celebrating our anniversary with his other wife.
He brought her into our home as a maid, claiming it was for my "healing." He even shoved me to the ground in public to save her from a staged fall.
The final betrayal came when Gianna framed me, convincing Bennet I had hired men to assault her. He dragged me to a dark room, not even recognizing me through a mask. He believed I was a stranger who had hurt his real wife.
"Anyone who lays a hand on my wife," he snarled, "will feel a thousand times the pain."
He personally whipped me ninety-nine times. The man who swore to protect me became my torturer, all while believing he was defending the woman he truly loved.
He left me for dead, ordering his men to finish the job.
But I escaped.
Bleeding and broken, I fled the country with a new identity, my heart set on one thing: entering the Paris architecture competition and taking back the life he tried to destroy.
He thought he had clipped my wings, but he only taught me how to fly from the ashes. A Mother's Sword
Romance The soft beep of the heart monitor was the first sound I heard, cutting through the fog of impact, of screeching tires, and Michael' s small hand slipping from mine. I was in a hospital, a dull ache spreading through my entire body. Then the door opened, and Tiffany, the senator' s daughter, the one who was driving, stood there.
"Oh, you're awake," she said, devoid of concern, as if my son, Michael, was an inconvenience. "My father has taken care of everything. The official report will say it was a tragic accident caused by poor road conditions." She even offered to pay my hospital bills.
The world I knew, where right was right, crumbled. My son, my kind, innocent Michael, was just an "annoyance" to them. The police wouldn't help, the law wouldn't help. Despair was a suffocating blanket, threatening to pull me under.
They thought I was just a grieving, helpless widow to be bought off and intimidated. They thought my husband' s Medal of Honor, tucked away at home, was just a piece of metal. They thought his sacrifice meant nothing.
But as Tiffany walked out, a cold, hard purpose crystallized within me hotter than any rage. My tears stopped. I looked at my steady hands. The woman who had been rushed into that hospital was gone. I was checking out. Betrayed By The Fiance: The Unsinkable Heiress
Romance My first life ended in the icy, unforgiving grasp of the Hudson River.
The memory of the dark water choking me, burning my lungs, was as real as the silk sheets I lay on now.
Ethan' s voice, a blade to my soul, still pierced me: "You deserve it, Ava, for stealing Chloe' s life."
Noah, the kind cousin who, despite his weak heart, desperately tried to save me, struggled and disappeared beneath the waves alongside me.
Then, miraculously, I gasped awake in my opulent SoHo bedroom, sunlight warming my face, a stark contrast to the cold dread that now gripped me.
My phone buzzed with a reminder: "Lunch with Ethan, 1PM."
Panic surged – it was today.
The very day Chloe Jenkins, a deluded scholarship student, had convinced my fiancé, Ethan, that she was the real Miller heiress, leading him to betray me.
The brutal memories weren' t a dream; they were a chilling premonition, every detail of my impending kidnapping and murder replaying in vivid terror.
How could the man I was to marry so easily believe such an insane lie, so readily trade me for a perceived better option?
His betrayal had been a fresh wound even in my last moments, and now it was a ghost haunting my every breath.
Ava Miller, the Miller heiress, was alive, but the exact script of my agonizing death was already written, the cruel actors in place, their roles meticulously cast.
I remembered Chloe' s smug face at the desolate pier, just before she snatched my phone, relishing the thought of me begging for my life.
But this time, I wouldn' t repeat the past.
I wouldn't call Ethan.
My trembling fingers scrolled past his name, reaching instead for Jackson, my fiercely protective brother and the CEO of the Miller empire.
Then, a cryptic text to Noah Williams, the gentle soul who died trying to save me.
This time, I would rewrite the ending. My Stepsister's Dark Gift
Modern I was Olivia Miller, the quiet, studious pre-med student from a prominent family.
My stepsister, Izzy, was the dazzling socialite, everyone' s favorite, effortlessly getting what she wanted.
Then, the unexplained began. Dark bruises marred my skin, then alarming hickeys appeared on my neck, though I hadn' t been with anyone.
My family's judgment quickly fell, and Izzy, with sugary sweetness, presented me with an antique silver locket-a "family heirloom for protection."
New marks appeared the very next day.
The humiliation peaked at a prestigious university conference.
Mid-speech, I collapsed at the podium, bleeding inexplicably, as gasps rippled through the auditorium.
Doctors found no cause, yet whispers of a "wild lifestyle" and "secret abortion" turned me from star student into campus scandal.
My fiancé, Ethan, suggested our engagement be "transferred" to Izzy, citing my "embarrassing behavior." My appearance-obsessed parents believed every lie.
How could these things happen?
Why did Izzy always look so perfect, radiating health, while my body and reputation disintegrated under the weight of these bizarre, unexplainable marks?
The injustice and confusion were unbearable, trapping me.
But then, the world reset.
I was back at the podium, exact same moment, the same horrific pain beginning.
As my vision blurred, I saw Izzy' s face in the crowd: a sliver of dark satisfaction beneath her practiced concern.
This time, I wouldn't just collapse. I understood the curse. Izzy had just handed me the weapon to turn it back on her. My Money, His Mistress
Billionaires For five years, I lived as Sarah Miller, the unassuming wife of a rising tech executive.
I meticulously hid my true identity as Sarah Sterling, heiress to a vast fortune, believing my quiet support was building my husband Ethan's dreams.
But that carefully constructed facade shattered at a school fair.
Instead of Ethan, engrossed in a "critical product demo," I found him openly laughing with his colleague, Chloe, her son perched on his shoulders, a perfect family portrait.
The text "Saw you. Don't make a scene" burned my eyes as he publicly humiliated me, even tripping me.
Later, when our innocent daughter Lily approached him, he coldly asked, "Whose kid is this?"
The humiliation deepened when Chloe, smirking, implied Ethan was hers, and he prioritized her son over Lily.
I soon discovered his "hard-earned" success was funding Chloe's lavish lifestyle, not ours.
Days later, as Lily fought a severe asthma attack, Ethan, ignoring her labored breathing and hearing Chloe's laugh, dismissed my desperate plea for help as "dramatic."
My world, a carefully constructed illusion, crumbled, replaced by a cold, burning rage.
Years of "late nights" and "urgent work trips" weren' t ambition; they were a double life, built entirely on my blind trust and, ironically, my family' s secret funds.
This wasn't just an affair; it was an elaborate deception, a meticulously orchestrated project of my own foolishness.
The custom-made dollhouse I' d ordered for Lily' s birthday, now casually claimed by Ethan for Chloe's son, was the ultimate betrayal.
But the Sterling heiress, buried for five years, was about to resurface.
The quiet, unassuming Sarah Miller died that day.
Now, as Sarah Sterling, I would reclaim my power, dismantle my husband's fraudulent empire, and show him the true cost of his betrayal. From Servant to Sovereign
Modern Thanksgiving Day dawned, and like every year, I, Sarah Miller, had toiled alone since dawn, preparing a lavish feast for my ungrateful family.
As we finally sat down to eat, my mother, Eleanor, announced her estate plans: her house, her cabin, and all her savings went to my brothers, Mark and Ben, and their families, while I was simply assigned, openly, the "daughter's duty" of becoming her live-in caregiver.
My brothers chimed in, echoing how it "made sense" because I was "good at taking care of people" and didn't have a "demanding job," effectively erasing my sacrifices and our own family' s small life.
Years of quietly giving everything, from quitting my job to care for my father alone, to secretly funneling our meager savings to my brothers, culminated in this brazen dismissal of my worth, leaving me with a bitter, burning question: what exactly had my mother ever done for me, besides exploit and ignore me?
As their smug faces expected my silent submission, something inside me snapped, and with a guttural cry, I heaved, sending the entire Thanksgiving dinner-turkey, mashed potatoes, shattered china-crashing to the floor, marking the explosive end of my servitude and the beginning of my fight for freedom. You might like
Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. Too Late, Mr. CEO: Watch Me Shine
Nieves Gómez Kayla stood outside the CEO suite, holding a custom suit for her fiancé, Brennon. They had spent seven years building a tech company from a freezing garage into a billion-dollar empire.
But through the cracked door, she heard the breathy laugh of Evelin, the newly hired director. Then came Brennon's low, careless voice.
"The wedding's a PR milestone for the IPO, nothing more."
Kayla's blood turned to ice.
"She's comfortable. Makes sense on paper," Brennon continued. "But you, Evelin. You understand ambition."
The betrayal hit her like a physical blow. She had written the core code that made him a billionaire. She had stayed up until 4 AM debugging while he slept on a futon. Now, he was mocking their relationship to his mistress and handing over her life's work to a woman who couldn't even read a data log.
Seven years of loyalty, reduced to a PR stunt. She didn't cry. Instead, a cold, violent clarity washed over her. Why should she let him keep the crown she forged?
Without a word, she pulled the three-carat diamond off her finger and dropped it into her bag. She walked out of the building, drafted her resignation, and accepted a VP position at his biggest Wall Street rival. It was time to show Brennon what happened when the real genius behind his empire decided to tear it down. One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. Pampered By The Cold Mind Reading Tycoon
Hen Bu I woke up from a coma in the hospital, universally condemned as the vicious daughter who pushed the beloved fake heiress, Georgina, down the stairs.
My ruthless billionaire brother, Angelo, stood over my bed with cold eyes, ready to destroy me for hurting his precious sister.
But as I looked at him, a terrifying prophecy from my coma flooded my brain. Our entire family was doomed.
In the original timeline, Georgina would team up with corporate rivals to bankrupt the company, frame Angelo, and send him to federal prison, while our parents would abandon me to die miserably.
Lying there, I didn't dare speak. I just desperately cursed my idiot brother in my head.
"This stupid brother is still yelling at me for that fake heiress. He doesn't even know he's going to be framed and sent to prison next month!"
I just wanted to stay quiet, let them ruin themselves, and run away from this toxic family.
But strangely, Angelo didn't strangle me. Instead, his attitude took a shocking turn.
He abruptly fired the driver plotting to kill him, destroyed the abusive fiancé of a family ally, and publicly humiliated Georgina at a high-society gala.
He even shielded me from our abusive parents, declaring to the world that I was the only sister he would ever protect.
I was completely terrified and confused. Why was the tyrant brother suddenly acting like a protective beast?
It wasn't until he flawlessly crushed a massive corporate attack using the exact financial secrets I had just complained about in my mind that a horrifying realization hit me.
He could hear my inner thoughts! He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him
SHANA GRAY The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her.
Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead.
A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living.
Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body.
Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back. Shattered Mate Bond: The Secret Hacker Luna's Vengeance
Ben Nan After spending five grueling years securing the Madden Pack's empire, I thought my Alpha mate and I were finally building a perfect family.
But on my birthday, I returned home to find a thick, impenetrable wall of ice in our Mate bond.
Caden had completely shut me out to throw a lavish party for my half-sister, Adalynn.
He let Adalynn pollute our penthouse with her cheap perfume and brainwash my five-year-old daughter, Elara.
"Auntie Adalynn is a million times better than Mommy!"
Elara chirped happily to a camera, while Caden watched with a doting smile.
He publicly humiliated me, commanded the servants to ignore me, and deliberately fed Elara severe allergens just to spite my maternal rules.
When my pup ended up in the pack hospital gasping for air, Caden confiscated her tablet and roared at her to stop crying for the mother who "abandoned" her.
My heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces.
I couldn't understand how the man destined to protect my soul could twist my love into cruelty and use our helpless cub as a punching bag for his ego.
But the weeping, pathetic Luna died right there.
I calmly signed the divorce papers, surrendered all my assets, and walked out into the cold night.
Opening my encrypted laptop, I reclaimed my hidden identity as the global elite hacker "Ghost" and initiated a lethal protocol.
It was time to burn his entire world to the ground. 
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