Perverse

Cheated On Me? I Married a Tycoon

Rum Runner

I spent three years building my husband, Axel Farrell, into Silicon Valley's ultimate "family man." As his lead PR strategist, I carefully managed his public image, making sure the world saw him as a perfect, devoted husband while I worked in the shadows of our estate. The illusion shattered when he came home one night smelling of sandalwood and roses, with three deep fingernail scratches carved into his back. When I tried to check his phone, the passcode we had used for years-our wedding anniversary-had been changed. The betrayal got worse the next morning when his mother called me a "defective product" and tried to force me into a fertility clinic. Axel didn't defend me; instead, he shoved me against a marble bar at a public gala to protect his mistress in front of the world's elite. By the time I tried to leave, Axel had frozen my bank accounts and filed a forged legal petition to have me declared mentally incompetent. He planned to have me legally kidnapped and locked in a private psychiatric ward just to stop me from filing for divorce. He even blocked every major law firm in the city from taking my case, leaving me with no money, no identity, and no one to turn to. I couldn't understand how the man who "saved" me from the mud years ago could be the same monster now trying to legally erase my existence. Was our entire marriage just a grooming process to exploit my genius for his billion-dollar empire? As the deadline for my forced commitment approached, I stopped crying and opened my laptop. I leaked the video of his affair to every tech journalist in the country, watching his stock price crash in real-time. "Axel thinks starving me out will make me crawl back to him," I whispered as I walked into the headquarters of his biggest rival. "But he forgot that the most valuable part of his company is in my head." I was no longer the abandoned wife; I was the one who was going to take his throne and burn it to the ground.

Modern Revenge Bankruptcy Billionaires Female-Centered Ex-wife

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Bride Of The Shadowed Alpha:

FROM HIS HATRED, A DARKER DESIRE IGNITES

Written By

Okeke-Eze Ifeoma Isabella (Omaisabella)

❤️ The Council's Verdict ❤️

"Uncle, you send for me." Nyxoria was seen walking toward him. She was in her chamber when a messenger came to pass her the message of her presence being needed in the palace.

Vyr sat upon a throne of pure gold, the sunlight streaming through the open window catching the jewels of his crown and bathing him in a commanding glow. Draped in crimson and sable robes, he radiated quiet authority, a living emblem of power and majesty. Around him, the council of elders, about four, gathered at a massive oaken table, their robes marked by symbols of their clans and wisdom etched into their faces. They all turn to look at her with a big frown and angry looks on their faces, especially the one with a missing arm.

Nyxoria didn't care, her focus was on her uncle who beamed at her when she finally stopped beside him.

"Yes, indeed I did," Vyr said. "What do you say to this?" he asked, pointing at what he and the elders were discussing. A scroll was on the table and in front of Vyr.

Nyxoria looked at the scroll briefly and returned her gaze back to her uncle.

"I say we kill almost all of them and take the others." She told him.

One of the council of elders scoffed at what she said.

Nyxoria's eyes narrowed at him. "Uncle, will you miss him if he is gone? I think his seat is hurting his dirty ass."

Quickly holding one of Nyxoria's hands and Vyr vigorously shook his head at her. He had once made a mistake when she had uttered those words ten years ago when Elder Rue of the Water clan wolf had spoken of killing her, the following day after her parents tragic death. He had grabbed her hair and was shouting at Vyr and then Nyxoria uttered those words 'Uncle, will you miss him if he is gone? Let me start with this arm' and he and the elders had ignored her thinking it was just mere words until Elder Rue suddenly screamed out in pain. That was then they discovered she had cut off the hands holding her hair from the shoulder.

That day and even ten years later Vyr hasn't forgotten. Somehow, Nyxoria always has her sword hidden somewhere in her body and doesn't hesitate to use it.

"Don't Nyxoria," Vyr said and faced the elder that spoke, "do you have anything else to say than scoffed Elder Rivar?" He asked.

Elder Rivar was a 550 hundred and fifty years old werewolf who governed the Fire wolf clan.

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