The Mad Billionaire's Genius Undercover Wife

Broken Bonds: The Rise of the White Wolf

As the pack's Omega cleaner, I was invisible. I spent my days scrubbing floors, clutching a cheap moonstone in my pocket—the only proof that Marcus Thorne, the billionaire Alpha, had once touched me. I was his fated Mate. I thought he just needed time to realize it. But the night of the Alpha Ball wasn't a fairy tale; it was an execution. Isabelle, his scheming assistant, dropped classified documents at my feet and screamed "Traitor!" I waited for Marcus to sense our bond. I waited for him to save me. Instead, his eyes turned cold as ice. He didn't just believe her; he destroyed me. He threw me into a dungeon coated in burning silver. He watched as I was fed Wolfsbane. And then, in front of the entire pack, he delivered the final blow. "I, Marcus Thorne, reject you, Olivia Hayes." The bond snapped. My soul shattered. He chose a viper over his true mate and ordered me dumped at the border to die like a rogue. But he made a fatal mistake. The rejection didn't kill me. It woke something ancient inside me. I wasn't a weak Omega. I was the White Wolf. Five years later, I returned to New York. Not as the girl he threw away, but as the powerful Luna of the Crescent Moon Pack, with a new, stronger Mate by my side. When Marcus saw me, the color drained from his face. He fell to his knees in the dirt, holding out that old, dull moonstone, weeping. "Liv, please. I remember now. Take it back." I looked down at the man who had broken me and whispered the truth that would haunt him forever. "I don't want it, Marcus. That stone belongs to a girl who died in your dungeon."

A Five-Year Deception, A Lifetime of Payback

I was the long-lost Donovan heiress, finally brought home after a childhood in foster care. My parents adored me, my husband cherished me, and the woman who tried to ruin my life, Kiera Reese, was locked away in a mental facility. I was safe. I was loved. On my birthday, I decided to surprise my husband, Ivan, at his office. But he wasn't there. I found him at a private art gallery across town. He was with Kiera. She wasn't in a facility. She was radiant, laughing as she stood beside my husband and their five-year-old son. I watched through the glass as Ivan kissed her, a familiar, loving gesture he’d used with me just that morning. I crept closer and overheard them. My birthday wish to go to the amusement park had been denied because he’d already promised the entire park to their son—whose birthday was the same day as mine. "She’s so grateful to have a family, she’d believe anything we tell her," Ivan said, his voice laced with a cruelty that stole my breath. "It's almost sad." My entire reality—my loving parents who funded this secret life, my devoted husband—was a five-year lie. I was just the fool they kept on stage. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Ivan, sent while he stood with his real family. "Just got out of the meeting. So exhausting. I miss you." The casual lie was the final blow. They thought I was a pathetic, grateful orphan they could control. They were about to find out just how wrong they were.

When the Ice Queen Thaws

The Fourth of July weekend at our family lake house was supposed to be a peaceful escape with my daughter, Chloe, away from work, calls, and my husband, Mike. It was our sanctuary, smelling of pine and quietude. But then, a vulgar luxury boat cut through the calm, bringing Mike' s flashy mistress, Tiffany Vance, and his crude, new-money investor, "Big Rick" Santoro, directly to our private dock. They trespassed, shattering our peace with their loud music and condescending stares. Tiffany insulted my "rustic" appearance, implying I was merely Mike' s property. Big Rick' s predatory gaze lingered on my eight-year-old daughter, Chloe, who was swimming. Then, Tiffany dared Chloe to perform a dangerous, fifteen-foot dive for his amusement. When I tried to intervene, silent security guards blocked me, and Mike arrived, not to help, but to scold me for "making a scene." Worse, he then pressured Chloe himself, viewing his own terrified child as a mere pawn for "his business deal." My heart didn't break; it turned to ice. The man I had secretly built felt no loyalty, only contempt, for his family. How could the man I loved betray us so casually, willing to trade his daughter' s fear for a business deal? This wasn't just a marriage; it was a grotesque parody orchestrated by him. That was the moment. With a hand steady as stone, I reached into my sundress pocket for the simple device that would reclaim everything. Mike had no idea whose world he was truly living in.

The Secret Wife Of Hollywood's Monk

Ivy wasn't just another D-list actress struggling to survive in the shark-infested waters of Hollywood. She was secretly Mrs. Holt Nicholson, the wife of the world’s most famous, elusive, and supposedly celibate movie star. The secret that kept her safe became her cage during a high-profile charity gala. A loose thread on the red carpet sent her stumbling, and her hands landed directly on Holt’s crotch in front of a thousand flashing cameras. By the next morning, Ivy was the most hated woman on the planet. The hashtag #IvySnowMolester trended number one worldwide. Her L’Oreal deal was dead, her upcoming series fired her, and her rival, Kennedy Gilmore, led a public crusade to bury her for good. Paparazzi laid siege to her apartment while fans leaked her address on the dark web. She wasn't just losing her career; she was being hunted like a predator. The world saw a violation, but Ivy knew the truth—it was a freak accident. Holt had even gripped her arm to steady her, a detail the cameras conveniently missed. Now, she was trapped between a mob demanding her head and a husband whose silence felt like a death sentence. Desperate to save her, Ivy’s agent told a massive lie: they weren't married, they were "cousins." Ivy expected a lawsuit from Holt’s shark lawyers, but instead, the superstar publicly claimed her as family and snubbed her enemies. He didn't serve her divorce papers; he ordered her to move into his high-tech fortress to prep for the role of a lifetime, proving that being "family" was far more dangerous than being a stranger.

The Surgeon's Revenge: No More Mrs. Montgomery

I’m a top surgeon at Mount Sinai, but at 432 Park Avenue, I’m just the invisible "placeholder wife" of Fletcher Montgomery. After three months of silence, I didn’t hear from my husband; I found out he was back in New York via a news alert tracking his private jet. When he finally walked into our penthouse, he didn't bring a greeting—he brought the scent of another woman’s perfume and a heart full of ice. He looked at me with pure revulsion, telling me he was "tired of looking at mistakes" before slamming the bedroom door in my face. The humiliation escalated the next morning when his mother cornered me with a divorce agreement, calling our seven-year marriage a "charity project" that had run its course. She reminded me I was a "peasant" who owed the Montgomerys for saving my reputation, even as I spent my days saving lives in the OR. At a family dinner on Long Island, Fletcher turned our private struggle into a public execution. In front of his entire elite clan, he sneered that I should stop fixing other people’s hearts and figure out why my own womb was a "wasteland." When I tried to defend myself, he dragged me into his car, only to kick me out on a dark, rain-slicked street in Queens. I stood there shivering in a thin blouse, without a phone or shoes, watching his taillights disappear while a group of men whistled at me from the shadows. I couldn't understand how seven years of devotion ended with me barefoot in the mud, or why the man I once loved now treated me like a stray he regretted picking up. The injustice burned hotter than the freezing rain, fueling a cold, surgical rage I hadn't felt in years. I eventually made it back to the penthouse, but I wasn't the submissive wife anymore. I rescued my cat from the freezing terrace, fired the malicious house manager, and deadbolted the master suite from the inside. When Fletcher’s assistant called, I gave him a simple message: "Tell him the locks have changed, and the war has officially begun."

Woke Up To My Husband's Betrayal

I gave my husband my kidney and woke up from a year-long coma. My first sight wasn't his loving face, but him cheating with my sister in my hospital room. Fueled by rage, I went to file for divorce, only to be told our marriage had been annulled ten months ago. He had already married her. While I lay helpless, they erased me from my own life. Now, his powerful father has a new plan for me: a forced marriage to another wealthy heir who is also in a coma.

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.

SCORNED EX WIFE : Queen Of Ashes

Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace. But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge. A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart. Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn. But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left? A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again? She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.

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.

Captivation: Want Nothing But You

Her fiance and her best friend worked together and set her up. She lost everything and died in the street. However, she was reborn. The moment she opened her eyes, her husband was trying to strangle her. Luckily, she survived that. She signed the divorce agreement without hesitation and was ready for her miserable life. To her surprise, her mother in this life left her a great deal of money. She turned the tables and avenged herself. Everything went well in her career and love when her ex-husband came to her.

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

After My Husband Cheated, I Married His Greatest Rival

The rain assaulted the glass, mirroring the storm inside me. For three years, I, Vivian Sterling, played the perfect wife to Julian Kensington, draining my life. The antique clock ticked, a reminder of time lost. Then, I found it: a blonde hair on Julian's suit, reeking of Midnight Rose, and a text, ""Candy: You left your cufflinks on my nightstand. I'm already missing you."" My world shattered, revealing his betrayal. This was just the beginning. I exposed Julian's fraud and his family's violent plots, surviving assassination. But their malice stole my past. Then Alexander Vance, my protector, uncovered a terrifying truth: my birth mother was alive, held captive by a shadowy order. My life was a lie, built to shield me from my dangerous bloodline. I found strength and love with Alexander, the man who walked into fire for me. Yet, as I prepared to rescue my mother, a new life stirred within me, a secret threatening to complicate the impending war.