Married To The Vulture Of Wall Street

My Second Chance, His Regret

A pact sealed by my father' s death dictated that on my twenty-second birthday, I would marry a Kline and crown the next CEO. For years, I chased Brett Kline, convinced my unrequited love would eventually win his heart. But at my birthday party, he gave the bracelet meant for me to my stepsister, Juliana, right in front of everyone. "Get used to it, Faith," he sneered. "I'm about to be CEO. I can't be tied down to just one woman." He called me shameless and vicious, a disgrace to my family name. He humiliated me, cheated on me with Juliana, and demanded I accept his affairs if I wanted to be his wife. His cruelty escalated until he slapped me in public and even tried to stab me on my wedding day. In my last life, this blind devotion led to a miserable marriage. He slowly poisoned me, and I died alone while he lived happily with my stepsister. But when I opened my eyes again, I was reborn and back at that party, the moments before he was about to give my gift away. This time, I knew the truth. And I knew I wouldn't be choosing him.

My Guardian's Cruelest Love Game

For seven years, I loved my guardian, Kendrick Page. He was my protector, my family, my entire world. The day I confessed, he called my love "unhealthy" and kicked me out. Then he brought home his fiancée, Chrissy. She took my room and my memories before revealing their engagement was a "charade"-a cruel game Kendrick designed to prove I was a burden and drive me away for good. His final act of cruelty was asking me to be his maid of honor. The man who raised me hadn't just rejected me; he had orchestrated my complete humiliation just to be free of his responsibility. Heartbroken, I escaped to Boston to start over. I met Adolfo Joyce, a brilliant, intense mentor who saw the pain I tried to hide. But just as I started to feel safe, he cornered me, his eyes holding a shocking secret. "Amirah," he whispered, his voice low and urgent. "What is your mother's name?"

The Genius Omega's Secret: The White Wolf Bloodline

For ten years, I served as the Alpha’s hidden partner, using my research to make his pack rich, waiting for the day Ethan would finally Mark me. Instead, I found him on the balcony, cradling another woman’s baby bump. He announced Chloe as his Luna because she was carrying his "heir." But I knew the truth. As the head researcher, I had seen Chloe’s medical files—she had a hysterectomy years ago. It was physically impossible for her to be pregnant. I rushed to the banquet to warn Ethan that he was being deceived. He didn't listen. "Silence!" he roared, using the Alpha Command to force me to the ground until my knees shattered on the marble floor. He branded me a traitor to protect his mistress. But the cruelest twist wasn't his betrayal. It was the secret I carried in my own womb. I was the one pregnant with his true heir. While I lay broken in the dungeon, Ethan authorized a surgery to harvest my kidney to "save" Chloe’s failing health. In doing so, he killed his own child to sustain a lie. With the last of my strength, I looked at the stone ceiling and severed our bond. "I, Ava Miller, reject you, Ethan Reed." He thought I died in that cell. He was wrong. I returned a year later, not as a servant, but as the Luna of the most powerful rival pack. And when Ethan saw me on the global stage, holding another Alpha's hand, he fell to his knees and screamed my name.

Her Neglect, My Undying Haunted Soul

I was the biological daughter, yet my mother looked at me with disgust while worshipping my adopted sister, Carina. When I vanished for two months, my mother laughed it off as a "tantrum" designed to ruin my grandmother's jubilee. She only stopped laughing when the detective slammed a forensics report on the table. "Your daughter didn't just die, Mrs. Fowler," the officer said, his voice cold. "She was buried alive by the elements. It took her three days to suffocate in that ravine." My mother turned pale, stammering that she never got a call for help. The detective' s eyes narrowed. "Oh, she called. Five times. Someone answered the last one, listened to her scream, and then deleted the log to cover it up." The room went dead silent. Slowly, my mother' s horrified gaze turned toward Carina, the "perfect" daughter, who was trembling violently in the corner. My ghost watched from the shadows of the interrogation room as the realization finally hit her. She hadn't just neglected me; she had raised the monster who left me to die.

Anniversary Divorce: My Queen's Rise

My husband handed me divorce papers on our anniversary. It was a "temporary maneuver," he said, to appease his pregnant mistress until she gave birth to his heir. Then he left me to die in a storm and forced me to give my blood to save her, threatening my parents' graves when I refused. He called me a "blood bag" and expected me to wait patiently for his return. He thought he knew his practical, loving wife. He was about to meet the queen who would take his crown, his company, and his entire world.

Beyond Betrayal: A Second Chance At Vengeance

The cold, damp concrete was the last thing I remembered. A guard' s boot had connected with my ribs, a brutal punctuation to a life spiraling out of control. They said I tried to kill Liam, my best friend. A frame job so perfect, even I almost believed it. My art career had evaporated. My finances were a joke. I was a magnet for every piece of misfortune the world could throw at me. Meanwhile, the Peterson family thrived. My fiancée, Chloe, was a local celebrity. Her father shot up the corporate ladder. Her aimless sister landed a six-figure job. And Derek Stone, Chloe' s deadbeat ex, became a tech mogul overnight. Their good fortune mirrored my ruin. It wasn't coincidence, I realized too late. It was a transaction. They were feasting on my life, my luck, my very soul, through some dark ritual disguised as love. Then, darkness. An endless, silent fall. Until a sharp, piercing ring jolted me back. It wasn't a prison bell. It was the clinking of champagne glasses. My eyes snapped open. I was standing on a plush red carpet, holding a champagne flute, wearing the suit I' d bought for my engagement party. Chloe Peterson stood before me, radiant in a white dress, a smile as bright and as fake as I now knew it to be. The same smile she gave me in the courtroom when they read the guilty verdict. I was back. Back in the grand ballroom of the Peterson family mansion, on the very day my life had been signed away. The day the ritual began. The rage, the betrayal, the memory of dying alone on a prison floor churned inside me. "Just a bit dizzy," I said, my voice steady, betraying none of the chaos in my mind. This wasn't a repeat. It was a second chance. And I was going to burn their entire empire to the ground.

Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me Now

The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.

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."

The Phantom Heiress: Rising From The Shadows

Brenna lived with her adoptive parents for twenty years, enduring their exploitation. When their real daughter appeared, they sent Brenna back to her true parents, thinking they were broke. In reality, her birth parents belonged to a top circle that her adoptive family could never reach. Hoping Brenna would fail, they gasped at her status: a global finance expert, a gifted engineer, the fastest racer... Was there any end to the identities she kept hidden? After her fiancé ended their engagement, Brenna met his twin brother. Unexpectedly, her ex-fiancé showed up, confessing his love...

Revealing My Secret Identities! My Bros Are Speechless!

For seventeen years, I was the crown jewel of the Kensington empire, the perfect daughter groomed for a royal future. Then, a cream-colored envelope landed in my lap, bearing a gold crest and a truth that turned my world into ice. The DNA test result was a cold, hard zero percent-I wasn't a Kensington. Before the ink could even dry, my parents invited my replacement, a girl named Alleen, into the drawing room and treated me like a trespasser in my own home. My mother, who once hosted galas in my honor, wouldn't even look me in the eye as she stroked Alleen's arm, whispering that she was finally "safe." My father handed me a one-million-dollar check-a mere tip for a billionaire-and told me to leave immediately to avoid tanking the company's stock price. "You're a thief! You lived my life, you spent my money, and you don't get to keep the loot!" Alleen shrieked, trying to claw the designer jacket off my shoulders while my "parents" watched with clinical detachment. I was dumped on a gritty sidewalk in Queens with nothing but three trunks and the address of a struggling laborer I was now supposed to call "Dad." I traded a marble mansion for a crumbling walk-up where the air smelled of exhaust and my new bedroom was a literal storage closet. My biological family thought I was a broken princess, and the Kensingtons thought they had successfully erased me with a payoff and a non-disclosure agreement. They had no idea that while I was hauling trunks up four flights of stairs, my secret media empire was already preparing to move against them. As I sat on a thin mattress in the dark, I opened my encrypted laptop and sent a single command that would cost my former father ten million dollars by breakfast. They thought they were throwing me to the wolves, but they forgot one thing: I'm the one who leads the pack.

Pregnant and Divorced: I Hid His Heir

Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit. The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena. This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone.