From Unwanted Ward To Unattainable Queen

From Beloved To Battered: Her Reckoning

My husband, Chase, was having an affair. But when I confronted him, he didn't just admit it-he told me he was tired of my ambition and that his new lover, a diner waitress, was everything I wasn't: simple and undemanding. Then he pushed me down the stairs. The fall cost me our unborn child. As I lay broken in the hospital, his mistress, Joy, visited. Under the guise of care, she forced a foul soup down my throat, whispering it was the "blood and flesh" of my dead baby. When I fought back, Chase walked in, saw Joy on the floor, and ordered his bodyguards to beat me for hurting her. One hundred slaps. Each one chipping away at the nine years of love I had for him. He had promised to be my anchor, but he had become the storm that wrecked me. Why did the man who once cherished my brilliance now despise it? Why did he protect the monster who tormented me while destroying me and our child? Lying on the cold hospital floor, bruised and bleeding, I finally understood. The love was dead. And with it, the woman who had ever loved him. I picked up my phone and made a call. It was time to burn it all down.

When Love Becomes A Deadly Scheme

On our fifth anniversary, my husband Jacoby posted a tribute to our "perfect love" for the world to see. That same day, I was signing the divorce papers he didn't even know existed. I had discovered he wasn't just cheating with his junior analyst, Bridgette; they were using my secret trading algorithms for a massive insider trading scheme. He paraded their affair, publicly proposed to her, and after their first attempt on my life landed me in the hospital, he moved her into our home. They wanted me gone for good. He called me his "rock" online while whispering to her that I was a "fragile old witch." He thought I was a fool, too weak to fight back. So I gave them exactly what they wanted. I faked my own death. And as the "grieving" widower prepared to claim my fortune at his family's grand gala, I prepared to make my own spectacular entrance.

The Woman He Almost Killed Lives

I spent three years as the perfect girlfriend to Silicon Valley's "Ice King," August Armstrong, only to overhear him call our entire relationship a "training exercise" to win back my estranged stepsister, Caroline. He used me, then cast me aside, framing me for attacking Caroline at their engagement party after she deliberately broke my late mother's necklace. August's men beat me half to death and left me in an abandoned warehouse. "You're just a problem to be solved," they sneered. Lying broken on the concrete floor, I found August's phone. A text from Caroline glowed on the screen: "They dealt with her. She won't bother us again. See you at the wedding, my love." They thought they had buried me, but they only planted a seed. At their wedding, as they stood at the altar, the giant screens behind them flickered to life. Instead of their smiling faces, the entire world saw a video of Caroline, perfectly healthy, laughing with another man in Europe, followed by security footage of her shoving me into the path of a crashing car.

Betrayed By Blood, Loved By None

The valedictorian medal, cold against my skin, was a stark reminder of the ceremony an hour ago. My father' s face was a mask of disappointment, my mother fussed over my adopted brother, Alex, who sat slumped on the sofa. My crime? Not mentioning Alex in my valedictorian speech. An academic speech, not a family showcase. But to them, it was a deliberate act of cruelty, a way to "overshadow" Alex, who had just failed two finals and wouldn' t even get a full diploma. My mother accused, "Every success you have is just another way to remind him of what he isn't." My father added, "Family is supposed to support each other, not tear each other down. We are so disappointed in you." All my life, I'd craved their approval, but it was never enough. Alex was their sun; I, a distant, cold star. I tried to offer a peace offering-a framed photo of us, genuinely happy, from years ago. My mother twisted in disgust, pushing it away. It shattered on the floor, echoing the breaking of my heart. My graduation gift, a car for my internship, was given to Alex instead. My punishment: exile to my uncle' s farm, five hours away. Two hours into the drive, my phone buzzed. It was my mother, not to apologize, but to ask for my student ID for Alex's summer school discount. Then, she demanded I forget my internship and return to tutor Alex. As she listed his needs, a deer appeared. I hit the brake. Nothing. The pedal went straight to the floor. The last thing I heard was the sickening screech of metal against an old oak tree. Time became fluid, I was floating, watching my body in the wreckage. Ten days passed. No one came. My family didn' t notice I was gone. The letter from my internship, rescinding the offer, finally reached them. My father' s brow furrowed, "He's probably trying to punish us." That' s when I saw myself-a faint shimmer. I was a ghost. They couldn' t hear my screams, my explanations. My mother called my physical phone, miles away in the wreckage. Her voicemail, dripping with fury, not fear, echoed in my spectral ears: "This childish tantrum is over. Your brother needs you!" Anguish, cold and sharp, pierced through me. They only thought of Alex. What happened to us? And why was I, who worked so hard, always the family problem? What twisted delusion allowed them to ignore my efforts, my needs, my very existence, all while lavishing adoration on Alex? Why did they choose to be blind, even in my death? The answer would come, slowly, agonizingly, as my spectral presence clung to the home that no longer recognized me. And the truth, when it finally surfaced, would shatter their world just as irrevocably as my body had been shattered on that dark highway.

Finding My Star Within

My twenty-fifth birthday was three weeks away, and if I wasn't married by then, a rare genetic condition would claim my life. My fiancé, Liam, the man I' d loved my whole life, was supposed to be my savior. But then, at a charity auction, Liam publicly awarded Sarah Jenkins-his assistant, whom I had personally recommended for the job-with a diamond necklace he knew I adored, calling her the "brightest star in his sky" right in front of me. The whispers and pitying glances were unbearable. He later showed up, acting as if nothing happened, and offered me a marriage of convenience, telling me, "It' s just a title, Chloe. I' ll give Sarah the public recognition… but I' ll give you my love. My life. You' ll be Mrs. Davis. Isn' t that what you' ve always wanted?" When I refused, the charming mask dropped. He sneered, "Don't be stupid, Chloe. What other choice do you have? You need me. You know you do." He even twisted my family' s genetic condition against me, declaring, "If you walk away from me, you' ll be damaged goods, Chloe. A ticking time bomb. No one will marry you." His words hit harder than any slap. I had given him everything, and he had thrown it all away, not just my heart, but potentially my life, all for a woman I had brought into his orbit. But as I walked away, leaving him stunned and bewildered, a new resolve solidified within me. He had destroyed my future with him, but he hadn't destroyed my future. I had three weeks. I would find someone. I had to.

My Husband Fall In Love With That Sponsored Student

Friday nights used to be perfect. The smell of roasted chicken, Liam' s smile across the dining table-five years of DINK bliss, just us, no kids, no pets. Then, he dropped the bombshell: a sponsored student, Sarah, was pregnant. And it was his child. He swore it wasn' t an affair, a bizarre tale of stolen sperm and his powerful, bloodline-obsessed family. But the consequences were brutally real: Liam, who "didn't like kids," transformed, devoting himself to Sarah and their unborn child. He stripped our shared office to build a nursery, his tenderness reserved for her. My home became haunted by a happiness that was no longer mine. The final insult came during a fire. Trapped, I screamed his name, but Liam scooped up a cowering Sarah, whispering, "Our little family will be safe." He left me, choking on smoke, as a burning beam crashed down on my back. I survived, barely. But when I woke, he was asking for a temporary divorce. "It's just for the birth certificate," he said. "Then we'll remarry." Was I really supposed to wait for him while he built a life with another woman, using my name for their child? No. Not anymore. I pulled out my IV. I was leaving. For good.

Burned By Him, Reborn A Star

The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack." Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard. The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn. "Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress.

THE SPITEFUL BRIDE: MARRY TO RIVAL'S SON

"Let's get married," Mia declares, her voice trembling despite her defiant gaze into Stefan's guarded brown eyes. She needs this, even if he seems untouchable. Stefan raises a skeptical brow. "And why would I do that?" His voice was low, like a warning, and it made her shiver even though she tried not to show it. "We both have one thing in common," Mia continues, her gaze unwavering. "Shitty fathers. They want to take what's ours and give it to who they think deserves it." A pointed pause hangs in the air. "The only difference between us is that you're an illegitimate child, and I'm not." Stefan studies her, the heiress in her designer armor, the fire in her eyes that matches the burn of his own rage. "That's your solution? A wedding band as a weapon?" He said ignoring the part where she just referred to him as an illegitimate child. "The only weapon they won't see coming." She steps closer, close enough for him to catch the scent of her perfume, gunpowder and jasmine. "Our fathers stole our birthrights. The sole reason they betrayed us. We join forces, create our own empire that'll bring down theirs." A beat of silence. Then, Stefan's mouth curves into something sharp. "One condition," he murmurs, closing the distance. "No divorces. No surrenders. If we're doing this, it's for life" "Deal" Mia said without missing a beat. Her father wants to destroy her life. She wouldn't give him the pleasure, she would destroy her life as she seems fit. ................ Two shattered heirs. One deadly vow. A marriage built on revenge. Mia Meyers was born to rule her father's empire (so she thought), until he named his bastard son heir instead. Stefan Sterling knows the sting of betrayal too. His father discarded him like trash. Now the rivals' disgraced children have a poisonous proposal: Marry for vengeance. Crush their fathers' legacies. Never speak of divorce. Whoever cracks first loses everything. Can these two rivals, united by their vengeful hearts, pull off a marriage of convenience to reclaim what they believe is rightfully theirs? Or will their fathers' animosity, and their own complicated pasts tear their fragile alliance apart?

His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love

Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun. Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos. As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage. The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice. Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her.

After Betrayal, She Claimed Her Empire

Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered. Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak. She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her. Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears. Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home."

Between Ruin And Resolve: My Ex-Husband's Regret

After two years of marriage, Sadie was finally pregnant. Filled with hope and joy, she was blindsided when Noah asked for a divorce. During a failed attempt on her life, Sadie found herself lying in a pool of blood, desperately calling Noah to ask him to save her and the baby. But her calls went unanswered. Shattered by his betrayal, she left the country. Time passed, and Sadie was about to be wed for a second time. Noah appeared in a frenzy and fell to his knees. "How dare you marry someone else after bearing my child?"

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

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.