His Placeholder Bride, My Bitter Revenge

I Carry the Child of My Husband and His Mistress

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, its vibration a familiar comfort as I lay in bed, three months pregnant, dreaming of our perfect family. Mark was downstairs, his charismatic voice a lullaby through the floorboards. Then the messages started. Anonymous. Short. And devastating. A picture of Mark, asleep in another bed, his arm around a woman with long, dark hair. Chloe, his intern. My world didn' t just fracture; it shattered. Every loving gesture, every promise through the grueling IVF cycles, every whispered "You' re a warrior" – all tainted. I was the dedicated wife, enduring painful injections and procedures for our dream, only to discover I was nothing more than a convenient vessel. The ultimate betrayal arrived in a second message: "The baby you're carrying, conceived through IVF, is actually Mark's and mine. You were just... the perfect incubator." My eggs, his sperm? No. Her eggs, his sperm. I was a biological surrogate, my body a pawn in their monstrous scheme. Not only was he cheating, but he' d orchestrated a profound violation, using my love and desperation to build a family with his mistress under my own roof. How could he? How could they? The man I loved, the life we built, was a meticulously crafted lie. My anger and disgust solidified into a cold, hard resolve. I wouldn' t be a victim. I would reclaim my body and my life.

The Coldhearted Surgeon's Billionaire Revenge

I stood at the edge of the red carpet, my pulse a steady seventy-two beats per minute. I wasn't the girl they broke eighteen years ago; I was a machine of flesh and bone, calibrated by the sterile lights of the operating theater. But the moment I stepped inside the Hamptons estate, the trap snapped shut. Belle Estrada stood on the stage, her emerald dress shimmering as she pointed a blood-red nail at me. She accused me of corporate espionage, flashing "stolen" lab data across the massive screens for the entire elite crowd to see. The room turned into a shark tank. When the family patriarch collapsed from a massive stroke, Bentley—the man who once watched them ruin me—didn't see a doctor rushing to help. He saw a criminal. He lunged at me, hissing that he would have my medical license revoked and blacklist me from every lab in the country. "This is over," he snarled. "I'll bury you until you're broke and begging." I looked at him and felt nothing but cold, analytical curiosity. They really thought they could steal my life's work a second time. They thought I was still the girl who would cry and beg for mercy while they carved up my future. "You can't blacklist the patent holder, Bentley," I said, my voice cutting through his rage like a scalpel. I held up my phone, displaying the official filing from the USPTO. I wasn't just a guest; I was the sole owner of the very drug they were trying to sell. And standing in the shadows was Julian Vance, the most feared venture capitalist in the city, waiting to collect on his investment. The Everetts wanted a war, but they didn't realize I had already bought the battlefield.

I Designed His Dream House, He Built a Secret Family

I was in a high-end mall, browsing a toy store for my friend's daughter's birthday, when my world tilted on its axis. Through the polished glass storefront, I saw him. My husband, Julian. He was in the café opposite, seated beside the sprawling indoor children's play area. He wasn't alone. A woman, Seraphina Vance—a social media influencer whose perfectly curated life I’d occasionally scrolled past—was laughing, her head tilted just so. And between them, a little boy of about four, gleefully mashing a piece of cake into his own dark hair. Julian’s hair. They looked like a family. A perfect, happy family. An icy dread washed over me. I remembered Julian refusing to have a baby with me, citing the immense pressure of his work. All his business trips, the late nights… were they spent with them? I recalled a night six months ago when Noah had supposedly been sick. Julian had stayed out all night, his voice strained over the phone, telling me a "critical client had a medical emergency." The lie was so easy for him. I must have stared too long. The little boy, Noah, noticed me. He picked up a toy water pistol from their table, aimed it directly at me through the café’s open front, and squeezed the trigger. A jet of cold water hit my silk skirt, leaving a dark, spreading stain. Seraphina Vance turned, her eyes meeting mine. There was no surprise, only a flicker of amusement. She offered a saccharine smile. "Oh, dear. He's just playing with you," she cooed, her voice dripping with condescension. My heart hammered against my ribs. I turned and walked away, my legs unsteady. I needed to leave, to breathe, to think. In the underground parking garage, I fumbled for my keys, my hands shaking. As I passed Julian’s sleek sedan, something on the passenger seat caught my eye. A heavy, cream-colored card with embossed lettering. "You are joyfully invited to the Christening of Noah Thorne." It was real. More real than a fleeting email. A physical invitation to a life I never knew existed. How could I have been so blind? My phone felt heavy in my hand. I didn’t call my best friend. I didn’t call a lawyer. I called the director of the Zurich Architectural Fellowship, a prestigious program I had deferred for him, for us. "I'd like to accept the fellowship," I said, my voice eerily calm. "I can leave immediately."

His Perfect Prescription, My Royal Betrayal

For three years, I was his "little bird," an amnesiac he rescued and cherished. He was Dawson Nash, a handsome tech billionaire, my savior, my anchor, my entire world. Then I overheard him talking to his therapist. "10,000 encounters, Dawson. You chose well. She's clean, naive, and pliable. A perfect prescription." I was just a tool, a "cure" to keep him pure for his true obsession: Arleen, his mother's best friend. Every gentle touch, every patient lesson, every whispered "I love you"-all a calculated lie. He called me disposable, a placeholder until he could have his goddess. He humiliated me, abandoned me in a storm, and left me for dead after a car accident. When I saved Arleen from drowning, he accused me of trying to kill her and had me locked in a chapel to "reflect." But as the super blue blood moon rose, I saw my chance. Not for revenge, but for escape. I threw myself into the ancient well on his family's estate, not to die, but to go home. Because I wasn't just a naive girl with amnesia. I was a princess from a lost kingdom, and the well was my gateway back.

Marrying The Protector: My Second Chance

The clerk at the DMV looked at me like I was stupid, or perhaps just clinically insane. She slid my paperwork back under the thick glass partition, her expression flat, and said the words that ended my life: "Ma'am, I cannot renew a license with your married name. Your marital status in the system is listed as 'Divorced.' It has been for three years." My husband, Jackson, had just kissed me goodbye, yet the clerk revealed he remarried three years ago, having a son with his new wife, Candida. My entire marriage, our five years, was a monstrous lie. Stunned, I’d lived a cruel charade, trying for a baby with a man who already had one. Pregnant, Jackson pushed me at a gala, publicly choosing his new family. My pregnancy tragically ended. Every tender word he’d spoken was a performance. He kept me as a "PR shield," letting me mourn a future he’d already built. His betrayal was absolute. With nothing left, I chose to die. A death certificate was arranged, my past cremated. Lena Rose was born in France, ready to paint my pain into power, authoring my own story.

Too Late For His Empty Regret

My husband Ethan was my childhood hero, the perfect man who promised me forever. After our son was born, he seemed like the perfect father, too. Then an anonymous message popped up on my phone: Ethan Blake is cheating. I have proof. But the man I found wasn't just a cheater. He was a monster who mocked my postpartum body with his mistress. "All that trauma from childbirth... It's too much," he'd said, disgusted. He publicly humiliated me, caused an accident that left me crippled, and then bankrupted my family's company, putting my father in the ICU. This was the same man who once broke his own hand to protect me, the boy who swore he'd love me forever. How could he become this cruel stranger who looked at me with nothing but disgust? As he left me broken and blamed me for everything, the love I had for him finally died. I picked up my phone and called a number I hadn't dialed in years. "Jackson," I said, my voice cold as ice. "It's Audrey. I need your help. Remember your offer?"

Billionaire Boss? Nah, Just A Possessive Husband!

I just got my billionaire husband to sign our divorce papers. He thinks it's another business document. Our marriage was a business transaction. I was his secretary by day, his invisible wife by night. He got a CEO title and a rebellion against his mother; I got the money to save mine. The only rule? Don't fall in love. I broke it. He didn't. So I'm cashing out. Thirty days from now, I'm gone. But now he's noticing me. Touching me. Claiming me. The same man who flaunts his mistresses is suddenly burning down a nightclub because another man insulted me. He says he'll never let me go. But he has no idea I'm already halfway out the door. How far will a billionaire go to keep a wife he never wanted until she tried to leave?

From Rejected Omega to the Supreme White Wolf

I was dying at the banquet, coughing up black blood while the pack celebrated my step-sister Lydia’s promotion. Across the room, Caleb, the Alpha and my Fated Mate, didn't look concerned. He looked annoyed. "Stop it, Elena," his voice boomed in my head. "Don't ruin this night with your attention-seeking lies." I begged him, telling him it was poison, but he just ordered me to leave his Pack House so I wouldn't dirty the floor. Heartbroken, I publicly demanded the Severing Ceremony to break our bond and left to die alone in a cheap motel. Only after I took my last breath did the truth come out. I sent Caleb the medical records proving Lydia had been poisoning my tea with wolfsbane for ten years. He went mad with grief, realizing he had protected the murderer and rejected his true mate. He tortured Lydia, but his regret couldn't bring me back. Or so he thought. In the afterlife, the Moon Goddess showed me my reflection. I wasn't a wolfless weakling. I was a White Wolf, the rarest and most powerful of all, suppressed by poison. "You can stay here in peace," the Goddess said. "Or you can go back." I looked at the life they stole from me. I looked at the power I never got to use. "I want to go back," I said. "Not for his love. But for revenge." I opened my eyes, and for the first time in my life, my wolf roared.

When Love Is A Lie

Katherine endured mistreatment for three years as Julian's wife, sacrificing everything for love. But when his sister drugged her and sent her to a client's bed, Katherine finally snapped. She left behind divorce papers, walking away from the toxic marriage. Years later, Katherine returned as a radiant star with the world at her feet. When Julian saw her again, he couldn't ignore the uncanny resemblance between her new love and himself. He had been nothing but a stand-in for someone else. Desperate to make sense of the past, Julian pressed Katherine, asking, "Did I mean nothing to you?"

Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don

On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up. As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress. The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me. The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one. With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered. I chose the one man they never expected. I chose his father, the Don himself.

Inferno Heiress: Freed From Hell To Reclaim My Empire

Hayley was betrayed by those who should have loved her most. To save their precious adopted daughter from a punishment she deserved, her own parents sent Hayley straight into a living hell—an infamous prison where survival demanded cruelty, and weakness meant death. Four years later, the girl who had entered those iron gates no longer existed. She emerged with a single, unbreakable rule carved into her soul: Every betrayal would be repaid tenfold. The day she walked free, the world trembled. A convoy of luxury cars lined the road. A legion of loyal followers awaited her triumphant return. Her father tried to buy her silence with money. But money had long lost its power over her. Her adopted sister hid behind sweet words and false kindness. But empty smiles no longer fooled her. Everything that had once been stolen would be reclaimed—piece by piece. When her parents attempted to tie themselves to the city's most feared man by offering their adopted daughter, Hayley's lips curved into a cold smirk. "Not on my watch." Backed by a legendary hacker, shadowy allies, and an entire prison willing to burn the world for her, Hayley dismantled her enemies with terrifying precision. Then the tyrant noticed her. "You're interesting," he said. "Be my woman, and the city is yours." Hayley raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You want to own me? Survive me first." High society became their battlefield. Power collided with desire. Ambition clashed with obsession. In this ruthless game of dominance and temptation, only one would kneel first. The girl once abandoned in hell rose from its ashes, crowned by fire and vengeance—And in the end, even the most feared ruler in the city would bow, offering his empire to the woman who had conquered both hell… and him.

The CEO Drove His Mute Wife Away, Now He Regrets

For three years, Adrian's heart belonged to another, and his wife Jessica-mute and unloved-endured his coldness. Realizing she deserved better, she quietly left him, divorce papers on the table. Adrian tore them up, accusing her of childish games, but Jessica had no interest in wasting more of her life. After their split, her voice returned and she was suddenly surrounded by admirers. Adrian, blinded by jealousy, begged her to come back. Jessica only laughed, repeating his own words, saying, "Didn't you say love is the most worthless thing in the world?" Now, she'd never look back.