Dreaming Of You

His Pregnant Wife's Billionaire Retribution

My husband tore my ultrasound report to shreds at a gala, publicly declaring me barren to protect his mistress. I was visibly pregnant, but he erased me, our child, and my truth with a single, cruel lie. So I faked my death and disappeared. Five years later, I returned, no longer a fragile wife but a hardened salvage expert with a fortune. I walked into a high-stakes auction where Emerson was the top bidder. I let my son, his spitting image, make the first move. Then, I stepped from the shadows and calmly raised my paddle. "Seven hundred fifty million."

Reborn Heiress: I Won't Love Again

I sat in a private hospital suite that cost more than a luxury car, watching the green line on my daughter’s heart monitor struggle to climb. Everything shattered when a hospital administrator accidentally dropped a folder, revealing a document with my husband’s unmistakable signature. Darius Brandt had personally authorized the "reallocation" of our daughter’s donor kidney to his mistress’s son just to secure a multi-million dollar corporate merger. When I confronted him, Darius didn't even blink, calling our daughter's life a "liquidated asset" before offering me a five-million-dollar settlement for my silence. In a blind rage, I set our penthouse on fire, choosing to burn with the proof of his betrayal rather than live another day as his puppet. As the flames consumed the room, I couldn't understand how a father could put a price tag on his own child’s life. How could he look at our dying daughter and see nothing but a resource to be traded for a European distribution network? But the heat suddenly vanished, replaced by the scent of expensive perfume and the muffled sound of a string quartet. I opened my eyes to find myself staring into a gold-framed mirror at the Brandt Charity Gala, exactly eight years in the past. It was the night my nightmare first began, the night I was framed and forced into a marriage that would eventually kill my child. "I see you, Darius," I whispered to my reflection as I applied a coat of blood-red lipstick. "And this time, I’m not the prey."

I Heard His Mind: The Don's Regret

I was naked in the bed of the most dangerous Capo in New York when I heard his mind whisper the name of the woman he actually wanted. It wasn't me. My husband, Dante, moved over me with cold precision, but his thoughts were screaming for Sofia, a soldier's widow he claimed to protect out of "honor." I possess a secret that makes me a freak: I can hear the thoughts of men. And Dante’s mind was a torture chamber of devotion to another woman. I found the deed to a luxury penthouse he bought for her. I watched her parade around in a dress he bought for me, hearing her mental triumph as she thought about rubbing her scent all over it. Refusing to be a placeholder in my own marriage, I left my wedding ring on his desk and fled to Las Vegas to build my own empire. I thought I had escaped. Until the divorce papers arrived in the mail, signed by him. I stood in my shop, heartbroken, believing he had finally discarded me to be with his true love. But then the phone rang. "Dante didn't sign those papers, Elena. He’s in the ICU." My blood ran cold. "He took two bullets to the chest. He started a war to distract the enemy from finding you." He hadn't chosen her. He was dying for me. I tore up the papers and booked a private jet. If the Grim Reaper wanted my husband, he would have to get through me first.

The Blind Wife's Return: Rising From Ashes

I went to the Department of Vital Records to pick up my four-year-old son's death certificate, but I left with a birth certificate for my husband's illegitimate child. The date of birth was August 14th. My son, Leo, had drowned in October. While I was choosing a casket for our child, Eli had been holding his newborn with another woman. I tried to confront him at a charity gala, but his mistress walked in holding their son's hand. The boy pointed at Eli and innocently asked if they were playing the "game" again—the same game they were playing in the bedroom while Leo wandered into the pool and drowned. The truth shattered me. I screamed, lunging at the monsters who let my son die. But Eli didn't comfort me. He shoved me off the stage to protect his mistress, breaking my leg in front of everyone. Later, to silence me forever, his family had me beaten and dumped under a bridge, leaving me blind and broken in the freezing rain. They thought I was dead. They thought they had won. But I survived. I found a doctor who could perform a radical procedure: Targeted Memory Suppression. I chose to surgically excise Eli Stark from my mind completely. Six months later, I stood on stage as a celebrated neuroscientist, my sight restored and my life reclaimed. A haggard, weeping man approached me with a massive diamond ring, begging for a second chance. I looked at him with clear, unrecognizing eyes and asked, "Excuse me, do I know you?"

The Substitute Wife's Silent Scream

I was the substitute bride, the secret illegitimate daughter forced to marry the billionaire Fletcher Dillon when my perfect half-sister ran away. My life was a quiet hell of his cruelty and control. Then, my sister Aislinn came back. At a party, she pushed us both into the bay. As I struggled for air, I watched Fletcher dive in and save her, leaving me to drown. When I found out I was pregnant, he dragged me to a hospital to "get rid of the obstacle." The procedure nearly killed me. Then Aislinn framed me for theft, and Fletcher had me whipped until I bled on the marble floor. He told me my life belonged to him, that I was a toy he could break and repair as he pleased. I was nothing more than a cheap replacement for the woman he truly wanted. So when kidnappers forced him to choose between saving Aislinn or me, he sacrificed me without hesitation. As they dragged me away, I saw him comforting her, his back turned to me. This was my chance. I broke free and plunged into the ocean as a bullet grazed my skin. It was time for everyone to believe I was dead.

A Marriage Built On Lies

I thought marrying Noah Harrison was my fairytale. He gave up everything for me – his family, his fortune. He said, "You're all that matters." Then his older brother died, and Noah became the sole heir. His family dragged him back, and I watched as he was molded into a stranger. A stranger whose intimacy was now shared with his widowed sister-in-law, Olivia, in the library, whispers of an heir filling the air. His mother, Mrs. Harrison, began my "training," each lesson a cut, reminding me of my "humble origins." When I found myself pregnant, a secret joy amidst the cruelty, I thought it would save us. I was so wrong. I overheard Mrs. Harrison whisper, "A child from her would be a stain on the family line. We must handle it." After a forced cup of tea, I miscarried violently in a cold hospital room. Then, a chilling clarity broke through my medicated haze. I heard the doctors, talking to Noah outside my room. "A hysterectomy is the only way to prevent future complications." Noah' s voice was firm, "Do it. Whatever it takes to protect her." I believed him. But then I found his locked journal. The pages laid out a truth colder than ice: the miscarriage was orchestrated, the surgery was not to save my life, but to ensure I could never bear a child, never challenge Olivia's secret pregnancy. He had ordered the removal of my uterus to secure his inheritance, to keep me a barren, placid wife. The man who sacrificed everything for me had sacrificed me for everything. The naive girl was gone. Now, only escape remained. I would fake my own death, and it would be spectacular.

Beg For My Love, Cold-Hearted CEO

Since she was ten, Noreen had been by Caiden's side, watching him rise from a young boy into a respected CEO. After two years of marriage, though, his visits home grew rare. Gossip among the wealthy said he despised her. Even his beloved mocked her hopes, and his circle treated her with scorn. People forgot about her decade of loyalty. She clung to memories and became a figure of ridicule, worn out from trying. They thought he'd won his freedom, but he dropped to his knees and begged, "Noreen, you're the only one I love." Leaving behind the divorce papers, she walked away.

Comeback Of The Adored Heiress

Madisyn was stunned to discover that she was not her parents' biological child. Due to the real daughter's scheming, she was kicked out and became a laughingstock. Thought to be born to peasants, Madisyn was shocked to find that her real father was the richest man in the city, and her brothers were renowned figures in their respective fields. They showered her with love, only to learn that Madisyn had a thriving business of her own. "Stop pestering me!" said her ex-boyfriend. "My heart only belongs to Jenna." "How dare you think that my woman has feelings for you?" claimed a mysterious bigwig.

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 Scars She Hid From The World

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Shunned By An Alpha, Cherished By A Lycan

Rejected by her mate, who had been her long-time crush, Jasmine felt utterly humiliated. Seeking solace, she headed to a party to drown her sorrows. But things took a turn for the worse when her friends issued a cruel dare: kiss a stranger or beg her mate for forgiveness. With no other choice, Jasmine approached a stranger and kissed him, thinking that would be the end of it. However, the stranger unexpectedly wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, "You're mine!" He growled, his words sending shivers down her spine. And then, he offered her a solution that would change everything...

The Fallen Heiress's Debt to the Billionaire

I was once the princess of the Upper East Side, but now I’m just "debt wrapped in pretty skin." To keep my father alive in a federal penitentiary, I signed a contract I didn't fully understand. I thought it was about restoring my family's name, but producer Barnett Orr treated it like a bill of sale for my soul. Inside his limousine, the air smelled like gasoline and fear. Barnett didn't want a star; he wanted a victim. He bruised my jaw and ripped my vintage silk gown to shreds, laughing because he knew I couldn't fight back without signing my father's death warrant. "Don't forget who owns you, Felicity," he whispered. When he dragged me into Dewitt Knight’s penthouse party, I was a walking disaster. I huddled in Barnett’s oversized jacket, my lip bleeding and my spirit shattered. The elite crowd didn't see a victim; they saw a fallen girl selling herself for a role. A former rival poured red wine over me, and the room erupted in cruel laughter while Barnett told everyone he was just "testing my commitment." I looked up at the balcony, locking eyes with Dewitt Knight. He was a god in a bespoke suit, looking down at me with cold, lethal disgust. He didn't see the bruises or the desperation. He only saw a transaction he found beneath him. "So the rumors are true," he said, his voice cutting through the music. "The Aguilars really will do anything for money now. Even this." I was trapped between a monster who wanted to break me and a man who thought I was trash. No one cared that my father's life depended on my silence. When Barnett cornered me in a guest room later that night, his belt jingling like a death knell, I realized no one was coming to save a girl like me. I fought back with a crystal vase, shattering it against his shoulder, but I was drowning in my own terror. Just as Barnett lunged for my throat, the door was kicked off its hinges. Dewitt stood there, finally seeing the blood on the carpet and the map of purple bruises on my bare back. He chased the monster away, but I didn't feel safe. I locked the guest room door, wedged a chair under the handle, and slept with a silver letter opener pressed against my skin. When I crept into the kitchen at midnight and found him waiting in the shadows, I aimed the blade at his heart. "In this house, no one hurts you," he promised, his voice a low velvet rumble. But in a world where I had already been sold once, I knew that even protection came with a price I couldn't afford to pay.