Login to ManoBook
Home / Modern / From Prison To My Billionaire's Embrace
icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

Home

Genre

Ranking

Short Stories

From Prison To My Billionaire's Embrace

From Prison To My Billionaire's Embrace

Qing Hua
Modern | Completed
5.0
Comment(s)
306
View
11
Chapters

On the anniversary of my mother's death, I found my husband in our bed with my best friend. The betrayal shattered me, just as a similar affair had driven my mother to suicide years before. Consumed by a blinding rage, I exposed their secrets to the world and destroyed her career. My vengeance was swift and brutal, but it was I who ended up behind bars for a year and a half. They watched as I was dragged away, their faces a mask of disgust. They built a life on the ruins of mine, while I was left with nothing but the four walls of a prison cell. But in that desolate place, my anger finally burned out, replaced by a quiet resolve to rebuild. Five years later, I walked out a new woman. I had found peace, a new family, and a love I never thought possible. I thought the past was buried, until I ran into him again. He looked at my simple dress with pity, offering me money and a ride home, completely unaware that the man waiting for me there could buy and sell him a thousand times over.

Betrayal Revenge Rebirth/Reborn
Chapter 11
02-28 21:50

From Prison To My Billionaire's Embrace Chapter 1

On the anniversary of my mother's death, I found my husband in our bed with my best friend.

The betrayal shattered me, just as a similar affair had driven my mother to suicide years before.

Consumed by a blinding rage, I exposed their secrets to the world and destroyed her career. My vengeance was swift and brutal, but it was I who ended up behind bars for a year and a half. They watched as I was dragged away, their faces a mask of disgust.

They built a life on the ruins of mine, while I was left with nothing but the four walls of a prison cell.

But in that desolate place, my anger finally burned out, replaced by a quiet resolve to rebuild.

Five years later, I walked out a new woman. I had found peace, a new family, and a love I never thought possible.

I thought the past was buried, until I ran into him again. He looked at my simple dress with pity, offering me money and a ride home, completely unaware that the man waiting for me there could buy and sell him a thousand times over.

Chapter 1

Clara POV

Ava's video of "intentionally pushing down" the popular female star Chloe went viral, leading to widespread online criticism and abuse.

I stood there, the champagne bubbles tickling my nose, watching Hailey laugh. Her hair, a cascade of sun-kissed waves, bounced as she gestured wildly, recounting some anecdote about her painting class. It was a celebration, a gallery opening for a mutual friend, but all I could focus on was the effortless way Hailey navigated the room, a stark contrast to my own quiet contentment beside Camden.

"Seriously, Clara, you have to try this canapé," Hailey urged, a glint in her eyes. "It' s divine. Like, really, truly divine."

I smiled, taking the small bite. "It is good," I conceded, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Camden, my husband, was across the room, talking animatedly with a group of investors. His charisma was a magnet, always pulling people in. I loved that about him, his drive, his ambition. My family had given him a leg up, a chance to start his tech company, and he'd soared. He promised me the world, and I believed him. I always believed him.

Hailey leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, Camden and I were talking about your studio space the other day. He thinks you could really expand if you just-"

"Hailey," I interrupted gently, my smile still in place. "My studio is perfect as it is. Small, quiet, just how I like it. I' m not looking to expand, remember? I' m happy with my little pottery business. It' s my passion, not a corporate takeover."

Hailey' s smile faltered for a split second, then snapped back into place, brighter than before. "Right, of course! Silly me. Just thinking big, you know? You deserve the best." She raised her glass. "To passion, then!"

We clinked glasses, the sound echoing the lightness of the evening. That night, sleep was a gentle embrace, and I woke feeling refreshed, unaware that the foundation of my life was about to crumble. The anniversary of my mother's death was a week away, a time often marked by a quiet grief, but this year, a different kind of sorrow was waiting.

It was a Tuesday afternoon, gray and damp, when I walked into our bedroom. Camden was supposed to be at a conference, Hailey at her art school. The air was thick with a scent that wasn't ours, a cloying sweetness mixed with something metallic. A strange feeling settled in my stomach, cold and heavy. I walked further into the room, my steps slow, deliberate.

Then I saw them.

They were in our bed, tangled limbs and hushed whispers. Hailey' s distinctive red hair was splayed across my pillows, her face flushed as Camden' s hand tangled in it. He looked up, his eyes wide, then narrowed to slits of cold fury. It wasn' t a mistake. It wasn't a misunderstanding. It was real. The image slammed into me, stealing my breath, curdling my blood. My best friend. My husband. In my bed.

I screamed. It was a raw, guttural sound that tore from my throat, shaking the very foundations of the house, of my world. The next few weeks were a blur of rage. I became a storm, intent on destruction. I didn't care about anything but making them hurt as much as they had hurt me. I posted everything online-the intimate photos I found on Camden's phone, the screenshots of their texts, every disgusting detail. I wanted the world to see them for what they were.

I didn't stop there. I found the prestigious art school Hailey attended, the one I had helped her get into, and I sent them everything. Every email, every photo, every piece of evidence of her duplicity. I wanted her expelled, her dreams shattered just like mine. The school forums exploded. Her name became a byword for scandal, a cautionary tale.

Then came her gallery debut, the culmination of her thesis. Camden had funded it, of course, a grand gesture for his new love. I walked in, cloaked in a dark hoodie, my heart a hammer against my ribs. My eyes landed on it: "Key to My Heart." A painting depicting a couple in an intimate embrace, set against the backdrop of my living room, the one with the climbing roses outside the window, the ones I had tended so lovingly. It was them. Their first time, in my home, in my space. The world spun. My stomach clenched, bile rising in my throat. I felt a violent surge of nausea, a hot, bitter wave that left me shaking. I gripped the small, sharp brooch I wore, a gift from my mother, and lunged.

The canvas shrieked as I tore through it, again and again, the sound reverberating through the stunned silence of the gallery. Paint splattered, colors bleeding into a chaotic mess, just like my life. People gasped, screamed. Security guards rushed me, pinning me to the cold marble floor. I could see Camden and Hailey standing over me, their faces a mixture of horror and disgust. They looked at me like I was a rat, vermin they'd found crawling in their pristine world.

"Call the police," Camden said, his voice cold and steady, without a hint of the man I once loved.

I started to laugh then. A low, broken sound that bubbled up from deep inside me, growing louder, more hysterical, until it filled the entire gallery. It was a terrifying sound, I knew, because I saw people recoil, their faces pale with fear. They thought I was insane. Maybe I was.

The next year and a half I spent behind bars. A felony conviction for vandalism. I tried to end it all, more than once, but they always pulled me back. In that sterile, lonely cell, something shifted. The rage burned itself out, replaced by a quiet, fierce resolve. I was done with them. Done with the past. I would rebuild.

Five years later, out of prison, a new woman. I had finally found peace, found love. Today, I was just Clara, running errands. I pushed open the heavy glass doors of 'Gourmet Delights,' a quaint little shop renowned for its artisanal cheeses and fine wines. I was looking for a specific vintage, a small indulgence for Christian, my husband. He wasn't a flashy man, despite his immense wealth, preferring quiet evenings at home. I found the bottle, the label an elegant dance of gold and deep crimson, and took it to the counter.

"That's an excellent choice, ma'am," the young clerk said, her eyes wide with recognition as she looked past me. "Mr. Rutledge, good afternoon."

My heart did a strange flutter. Rutledge. Camden. I hadn't heard that name in years. I turned slowly, and there he was. Older, perhaps, a few lines etched around his piercing blue eyes, but still undeniably Camden. He wore a tailored suit that screamed 'success', and there was an aura of effortless power about him.

He was in the middle of a phone call, his voice a low murmur, but his eyes, sharp and intelligent, landed on the bottle in my hand. He paused his conversation, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his gaze.

"Clara?" he asked, his voice a soft rasp. "Is that really you?" His tone sent a shiver down my spine, a ghost of a past I thought I had buried.

"It is," I replied, my voice calm, steady. I met his gaze without flinching.

He ended his call abruptly. "You haven't changed a bit," he said, but his eyes swept over my simple cotton dress, the canvas tote bag. "Are you... are you buying that for someone special?"

"Yes, for my husband," I said, a slight smile touching my lips. I watched his face, a flicker of surprise, then a shadow.

"Ah," he said, a strange note in his voice. "Let me get that for you. A small token, for old times' sake." He reached for his wallet, already pulling out a black card.

"That won't be necessary, Camden," I said, my voice firm but polite. I pushed my own debit card across the counter. "I'm quite capable of paying for my own purchases."

He paused, his hand hovering. "Still so stubborn, Clara," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Still holding a grudge, I see. All these years."

I felt a small, quiet laugh bubble up inside me, but I kept it contained. A grudge? No, not anymore. Not really. I had let go of the burning anger, the consuming need for revenge. What remained was a quiet satisfaction, a feeling of peaceful detachment. "No grudge, Camden," I said, meeting his eyes evenly. "Just independence."

The transaction was complete. I took my bag, the wine bottle nestled safely inside, and turned to leave. The overhead lights in the shop were bright, almost blinding. As I stepped outside, a sudden gust of wind whipped a strand of hair across my face, momentarily obscuring my vision. I blinked, trying to clear it.

Then, a sleek black Mercedes pulled up beside me, its engine a low purr. The window slid down, revealing Camden's face.

"Clara, you look a little pale," he said, his brow furrowed with what looked like genuine concern. "Are you alright? Let me give you a ride."

My heart gave a faint throb. It was a familiar gesture, one he used to make when we were young, when he would swoop in, a knight in shining armor, always there to take care of me. But that was a different lifetime.

"No, thank you, Camden," I said, shaking my head. "I'm fine. I prefer to walk."

He sighed, a hint of exasperation in his tone. "Don't be silly. It's a long walk, and that wine looks heavy. Where are you headed? Let me drop you off." His gaze swept over me again, lingering on my simple dress. "Are you... are you doing okay, Clara? Really?"

I met his gaze, my own eyes calm. "I'm doing very well, Camden. Thank you for asking."

He shook his head, a faint frown on his face. "I don't believe you. You look... tired. Let me help. It's the least I can do." He had a way of making "help" sound like an obligation, a penance.

The wind picked up, swirling around me, and I felt a chill despite my warmth. I looked around. There were a few curious glances from passersby. I inhaled slowly. This was not a fight I wanted to have in public.

"Fine," I said, a sigh escaping my lips. "Just to the old place. It's not far."

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "The old house? You're living there? Clara, that place... it's practically falling apart. Are you sure you're alright?" His voice was laced with a pity that grated on my nerves.

I knew what he meant. The small, unassuming house, the one I inherited from my mother, the one where my family's tragedy unfolded. The unspoken words hung in the air: How far have you fallen? I simply nodded, the corners of my lips turning up in a faint smile. He wouldn't understand. He couldn't.

I stepped into the luxurious interior of the Mercedes, the scent of leather and expensive cologne filling the air. It was a stark contrast to my simple life, a reminder of the world he inhabited. I reached for the air conditioning, a habit I'd developed to combat the occasional nausea that still plagued me sometimes, a lingering echo of the past.

"Still sensitive to smells, I see," Camden observed, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "You always were, especially when you..." He trailed off, catching himself. "You've always been delicate."

"I'm not delicate anymore, Camden," I replied, my voice flat. "Things change. People change."

A heavy silence descended upon the car, broken only by the hum of the engine. Then, his phone rang, a cheerful, insistent tune. He glanced at the screen, and his expression softened.

"Hailey," he mumbled, almost to himself, before answering. "Hey, love. What's up?"

Hailey's voice, bright and overly cheerful, cut through the quiet. "Camden, darling! Where are you? I' ve been waiting for ages. Are you still with that... person?" The last word was barely a whisper, but I still heard it.

Camden cleared his throat. "I'm just giving Clara a ride home, Hailey. She was at Gourmet Delights."

"Clara? Oh, my goodness! What a small world! Is she okay? Poor thing. You know, we should all get together soon. For old times' sake. Dinner, maybe? I always loved our girls' nights. We could catch up, truly catch up. You know, before everything changed." Her voice dripped with a manufactured sweetness, a performance for Camden, perhaps. But I knew the truth. I remembered her, the timid art student I had taken under my wing, the one I had protected, the one who had then plunged a knife into my back.

"No, Hailey, not tonight," Camden said, his jaw tightening. "Clara is busy. We'll talk later." He hung up, his face a mask.

We pulled up to the curb of my old house. It looked just as it always had, small, faded, but standing firm. A quiet dignity in its age.

"Thank you for the ride, Camden," I said, reaching for the door handle. My voice was polite, distant.

"Clara, wait," he said, his voice stopping me just as I was about to step out.

Continue Reading

Other books by Qing Hua

More
His Rejected Mate, The Rival Alpha's Gamma

His Rejected Mate, The Rival Alpha's Gamma

Werewolf

5.0

My five-year contract as his placeholder Luna ended when he left me bleeding in his car to comfort the woman who attacked me. He publicly announced my abandonment through the pack's mind-link, then stormed back to the house to accuse me of stealing a priceless necklace from her. He felt the fated mate bond spark between us, called it a cheap trick, and threw me in a silver-lined cell when the necklace was "found" in my bag. My mother had to trade the last relic of our fallen pack just for my freedom, and we were exiled with nothing. His final command to me, his true mate, was to go kneel and apologize to the woman who framed me. Instead, I severed our sacred bond. And as I stepped into exile, a rival Alpha was waiting, offering me the power to burn his entire world to the ground.

His Betrayal, Her Unveiling Power

His Betrayal, Her Unveiling Power

Romance

5.0

Three years into the apocalypse, I thought Caleb and I were a team, a family. Then I watched his hand stroke my younger sister Chloe' s knee, his thumb drawing slow, deliberate circles. He' d always protected me… or so I thought, until he publicly discarded me, allowing his men to hurt and humiliate me, all while my sister pretended to be ill, framing me with a raw egg and reveling in my pain. How could he betray me like this? How could my own sister hate me so much? As I lay broken and humiliated, a memory flashed: Liam, the kind-faced man from another life who had always tried to save me. This time, I' d take matters into my own hands.

Reborn for Her Downfall

Reborn for Her Downfall

Billionaires

5.0

My wife, Chloe, swept into our grand foyer, her familiar bright smile in place, another "soulmate" in tow-a fresh-faced influencer named Daniel. I was in my studio, painting a serene landscape, the antithesis of the chaos she embodied. She had a new project: Daniel needed my art studio, the only sanctuary I had left in our gilded cage, for his "content hub." "You said you wanted a clean slate for Daniel," I told her, my heart a hollow ache, as she beamed, thinking I was finally being "reasonable." In my last life, I had fought, pleaded, and eventually broken, losing my studio, my art, and then everything. Chloe, oblivious, wired me a fortune-pocket change to her, but to me, seed money for her demise. I saw the number on the screen, a grim smile touching my lips. Little did she know, this wasn' t payment; it was her first installment on her own ruin. I was reborn, and this time, the canvas of my life would be painted with her downfall.

No More Mr. Nice Guy

No More Mr. Nice Guy

Romance

5.0

For eight years, I loved Olivia, a silent battle against her family's disdain for the "poor scholar" who married their heiress, especially since we remained childless. Then, Brandon arrived-a country boy her grandfather handpicked to be the family's heir, meant to replace me. Olivia, drunk after a fight, had my replacement's child. I forgave her, blinded by love, only to find her secretly still seeing him. The final betrayal shattered everything: Olivia sold me out to kidnappers, begging me to die in Brandon' s place to save her family's "future." Dumped in a brutal jail cell, I endured a horrific beating. The call Brandon made to my father, describing my torture, triggered his fatal heart attack. How could the woman who once shielded me with her own body become this monster? How could she sacrifice everything for a man she claimed was a mistake? What depths of manipulation had I fallen prey to? Lying broken and battered, with my father dead because of her choices, I finally understood. The naive husband died in that cell. And a promise was forged in fire: I would burn her world to the ground.

The Mother's War

The Mother's War

Modern

5.0

My son, Caleb, lived for music. Every strum, every hum, filled our small Rust Belt home with joy. When legendary producer Anthony Lester swooped him off to Nashville, it felt like his dream was finally coming true. Then the music stopped. For two months, all I got were slick, pre-recorded messages and B-roll videos, until a shaky clip revealed a raw, red burn on his hand, and a terrified flicker in his eyes before he yanked it away. I flew to Nashville, only to be branded a crazy mother and turned away from the studio by a condescending assistant. Then, a new music video teaser dropped, supposedly showcasing "authentic art," but it was my son, Caleb, being brutally beaten on camera, his genuine terror dismissed as "method acting." The local sheriff, bought and paid for by the studio, merely smirked, telling me to take the "signing bonus" money and go home. How could this be happening? How could a mother watch her child being tortured and find every door slammed in her face, the world calling his torment "art"? Watching his gaunt face on a live stream, pumped full of drugs, unable to remember the name of his own childhood dog, I knew the system had failed him. But they forgot one thing: I wasn' t just a cleaning lady from a forgotten town. I was the widow of Sergeant David Johns, a Medal of Honor recipient, and the Army does not forget its own.

Sweet Poison, Cold Revenge

Sweet Poison, Cold Revenge

Modern

5.0

My sorority sister, Brittany, always seemed like the perfect friend – sweet, glamorous, always ready with a helpful suggestion. But that sweetness was a lie, a poison. It started with a phony survey, then quickly escalated. My SSN, my bank details, all stolen overnight for a "$3,000 loan" I never truly asked for. That loan spiraled to $9,000, and soon, Brittany' s "help" forced me into something far darker – an "escort service" tied to her family's hidden cruelties. The fabricated photos, the rumors, the shame – it all broke my parents. Their car crash, the one that erased them from my life, was no accident. It was the crushing weight of their daughter' s fabricated ruin, orchestrated by the girl who smiled in my face. My rage burned even hotter than the fire in my gut when I finally collapsed, only to realize, in that fleeting moment between life and oblivion, the bitter truth: their entire scheme was illegal. Unenforceable. A sham. Knowledge that came too late. They stole everything: my future, my family, even my last breath. But then, my eyes snapped open. I was back. September 14th. The day it all began, the day Brittany first whispered about that loan. And this time, she wouldn' t just trick me. This time, I knew her game. Every single move. My blood ran cold as her sugary voice called from the door. "Kayla? You in there?" The nightmare was vivid, but so was my resolve. She thought I was an easy mark. She thought wrong. This time, I' m the one setting the trap.

You'll also like

Abandoned Luna: Now Untouchable

Abandoned Luna: Now Untouchable

Lila

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.

Seven Years A Fool, One Day A Queen

Seven Years A Fool, One Day A Queen

Stella Montgomery

Everyone knew Kristine loved Colton. Still, his heart clung to a woman overseas-someone he spent most days with, now pregnant with his baby-and Kristine still asked him to marry her. On their registration day, however, he never came; his "true love" had flown back. Seven years of loyalty later, Kristine walked away, blocked him, and left his city. Colton didn't blink-until he saw her at the courthouse, arm-in-arm with another man, and the proud CEO went pale. He went after her, desperation overtaking him. "I'm sorry. Please give me another chance." She snapped, "Could you stop? I'm already married."

While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her

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.

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

Xiao Xiaosu

I went to the City Clerk’s office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk’s pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray’s text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we’re done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray’s life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.

The Convict Heiress: Marrying The Billionaire

The Convict Heiress: Marrying The Billionaire

Rollins Laman

The heavy thud of the release stamp was the only goodbye I got from the warden after five years in federal prison. I stepped out into the blinding sun, expecting the same flash of paparazzi bulbs that had seen me dragged away in handcuffs, but there was only a single black limousine idling on the shoulder of the road. Inside sat my mother and sister, clutching champagne and looking at my frayed coat with pure disgust. They didn't offer a welcome home; instead, they tossed a thick legal document onto the table and told me I was dead to the city. "Gavin and I are getting engaged," my sister Mia sneered, flicking a credit card at me like I was a stray dog. "He doesn't need a convict ex-fiancée hanging around." Even after I saved their lives from an armed kidnapping attempt by ramming the attackers off the road, they rewarded me by leaving me stranded in the dirt. When I finally ran into Gavin, the man who had framed me, he pinned me against a wall and threatened to send me back to a cell if I ever dared to show my face at their wedding. They had stolen my biotech research, ruined my name, and let me rot for half a decade while they lived off my brilliance. They thought they had broken me, leaving me with nothing but an expired chapstick and a few old photos in a plastic bag. What they didn't know was that I had spent those five years becoming "Dr. X," a shadow consultant with five hundred million dollars in crypto and a secret that would bring the city to its knees. I wasn't just a victim anymore; I was a weapon, and I was pregnant with the heir they thought they had erased. I walked into the Melton estate and made an offer to the most powerful man in New York. "I'll save your grandfather's life," I told Horatio Melton, staring him down. "But the price is your last name. I'm taking back what's mine, and I'm starting with the man who thinks he's marrying my sister."

Traded Husbands, Tangled Hearts: Can Destiny Be Changed?

Traded Husbands, Tangled Hearts: Can Destiny Be Changed?

Mia Caldwell

In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end. Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced. This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak. Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely. Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings?

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
From Prison To My Billionaire's Embrace From Prison To My Billionaire's Embrace Qing Hua Modern
“On the anniversary of my mother's death, I found my husband in our bed with my best friend. The betrayal shattered me, just as a similar affair had driven my mother to suicide years before. Consumed by a blinding rage, I exposed their secrets to the world and destroyed her career. My vengeance was swift and brutal, but it was I who ended up behind bars for a year and a half. They watched as I was dragged away, their faces a mask of disgust. They built a life on the ruins of mine, while I was left with nothing but the four walls of a prison cell. But in that desolate place, my anger finally burned out, replaced by a quiet resolve to rebuild. Five years later, I walked out a new woman. I had found peace, a new family, and a love I never thought possible. I thought the past was buried, until I ran into him again. He looked at my simple dress with pity, offering me money and a ride home, completely unaware that the man waiting for me there could buy and sell him a thousand times over.”
1

Chapter 1

28/02/2026

2

Chapter 2

28/02/2026

3

Chapter 3

28/02/2026

4

Chapter 4

28/02/2026

5

Chapter 5

28/02/2026

6

Chapter 6

28/02/2026

7

Chapter 7

28/02/2026

8

Chapter 8

28/02/2026

9

Chapter 9

28/02/2026

10

Chapter 10

28/02/2026

11

Chapter 11

28/02/2026