My Deceased Unborn Nephew

The High Price Of Father's Freedom

I was at a high-end law school mixer, hiding behind a pillar and eyeing the shrimp buffet because my bank account was empty and my fridge contained nothing but expired milk. My father’s name was a national headline for all the wrong reasons, and my only goal was to survive law school without being recognized. That’s when the room went silent for the arrival of Armond Woodward, the billionaire COO of a global media empire. I froze, because seven years ago in Paris, he was Armond Chevalier, the sweet art student I’d shared a life with. Now, he was a cold-eyed predator in a bespoke suit, and he was staring directly at me like I was a missing asset he’d finally located. I tried to escape, but the walls were closing in. My tuition payment was forty-eight hours late, and my father was facing a new indictment that would keep him in prison for the rest of his life. While a rich classmate named Miles tried to "save" me by parading me around like a trophy, Armond was working in the shadows. He didn't just offer help; he bought my student loans and my father’s legal liens, effectively making himself my sole creditor. The realization hit me like a physical blow when Armond cornered me in his private elevator. He knew about my broken apartment lock, my ramen-noodle dinners, and every cent I owed. He hadn't just found me by accident; he had been watching me drown for years, waiting for the exact moment I became desperate enough to be useful. "I've been waiting for you to hit bottom, Rose," he whispered, using the private name from our past as he trapped me in the back of his black SUV. With the threat of a two-million-dollar restitution fee hanging over my father's head and the prosecutors closing in, Armond laid out his final terms. He didn't want an apology or a second chance at love; he needed a wife to secure his family trust and defeat a hostile takeover, and I was the only person with enough debt to be completely controlled. "Marry me, Abbey. A three-year contract, and I make all of this go away." I looked at the man who had destroyed my life just to own it and realized that to save my family, I had to walk straight into the golden cage he had built for me.

The Wife They Broke

My husband and son were pathologically obsessed with me, constantly testing my love by showering attention on another woman, Kassandra. My jealousy and misery were their proof of my devotion. Then came the car accident. My hand, the one that wrote award-winning film scores, was severely crushed. But Jacob and Anton chose to prioritize Kassandra' s minor head injury, leaving my career in ruins. They watched me, waiting for tears, anger, jealousy. They got nothing. I was a statue, my face a placid mask. My silence unsettled them. They continued their cruel game, celebrating Kassandra' s birthday lavishly, while I sat in a secluded corner, watching them. Jacob even ripped my deceased mother' s gold locket from my neck to give to Kassandra, who then deliberately crushed it under her heel. This wasn't love. It was a cage. My pain was their sport, my sacrifice their trophy. Lying on the cold hospital bed, waiting, I felt the love I had nurtured for years die. It withered and turned to ash, leaving behind something hard and cold. I was done. I would not fix them. I would escape. I would destroy them.

Reborn as the Villain's Wife

I died in a mangled wreck of metal and fire, abandoned by the man I thought was my soulmate. But instead of the void, I woke up pinned against a cold marble wall, staring into the turbulent, storm-gray eyes of Damian Vincent. This was the night I destroyed my life. In my past world, I spat in Damian's face and ran into the arms of Eddie, a parasitic loser who was secretly plotting with my cousin Jill to strip me of my inheritance. My "escape" turned into a slow-motion suicide. My brother Donavan died in a horrific car crash while racing to save me from another one of my messes. Damian, consumed by a toxic mix of grief and vengeance, crushed the Nelson family empire until my father was a broken man. I spent years as a drugged-up social pariah, finally dying alone while the people I trusted laughed at my funeral. The most bitter realization didn't hit me until the end. The "controlling monster" I spent years fighting was the only person who ever truly protected me. I had traded a man who would burn the world for me for a man who would burn me for the world. Opening my eyes three years in the past, I find myself back at the airport, the rain lashing against the windows. My brother is pleading with me to run, and Damian is standing there, braced for the slap he thinks is coming. But I don't strike him. I press my palm to his burning cheek and give him the only piece of my soul he couldn't buy. "I'm not going anywhere, Dami. Keep this as my collateral." The game has changed. This time, I'm not the victim-I'm the one holding the match.

My Quiet Wife Is An Elite Genius

I was the ultimate trophy wife, a polished ornament in Francisco Zimmerman’s billionaire empire. For three years, I perfected the "Zimmerman Wife Smile," playing the role of the devoted partner while smoothing the Egyptian cotton of his shirts. The illusion shattered when I stood outside his study and heard him laughing with his mistress, Annalise. "She’s just a vase that only knows how to smile," Francisco’s voice was cold, devoid of any warmth. "As long as I pay the maintenance fees on time, she stays obedient." I walked out that night with nothing but a canvas bag and the clothes on my back. But Francisco wasn't finished with his "asset." He froze my bank accounts and used his massive influence to blacklist me from every interior design firm in New York. He tracked my phone, watching me struggle from the shadows, waiting for me to starve so I would crawl back to his mansion. He even showed up at the dive bar where I was playing piano for rent money, mocking my desperation. "You have technique, but no heart," he sneered, tossing a silver coin into my tip jar as if I were a beggar. "You're hollow, Iris. Just like your pride." I couldn't believe this was the same man whose life I had saved during a bloody night in Macau. To him, I wasn't a wife; I was a stock price that needed stabilizing. The more I fought for my independence, the tighter he pulled the net, determined to break my spirit until I had no choice but to return to his gilded cage. Then, the morning sickness hit. I realized I wasn't just carrying my own life anymore—I was carrying his heir. If Francisco found out, he would never let us go; he would turn my child into another "performance bonus" for his brand. Looking at the sonogram, I knew a divorce would never be enough to escape a man who thought he owned the world. "I'm not going back," I whispered, staring at his yacht moored in the harbor. "To save this baby, Iris Potter has to die."

His Cruel Test, My Broken Heart

The hospital air was cold, the envelope in my trembling hands heavy with the thirty thousand dollars – every penny my mother and I had scraped together to save her. But the bed was empty. The nurse' s soft words, "She' s gone," shattered my world. Then came the note, her shaky handwriting revealing a truth more devastating than death: She' d endured unbearable pain, not for a cure, but to save money for Jake, for my freedom. Clutching her ashes, I arrived at Jake' s office, the "good man who' d just lost his way." Then I heard it-voices from the conference room: my creditor, Chloe Adams, and Jake' s cold, analytical voice. "You can' t have a gold digger for a wife," Chloe purred. And Jake' s reply, chilling me to the bone: "Next, I need to know if she' s truly devoted to me… If she still loves me and not my money, then I' ll marry her." My mother died for a lie. His "struggle," our sacrifices, our love – it was all a cruel, elaborate test. A game. He was the CEO of Miller Corp, a billionaire, and I was just a lab rat in his sick experiment. I walked out, leaving him, his lies, and the ruins of my life behind. I will never look back.

Leaving the Billionaire's Shadow

I woke up to the sterile silence of my master bedroom, 27 again. This wasn' t a dream; it was my second chance to escape a life everyone else called a fairytale. On my wife Olivia' s side of the king-sized bed, the sheets were undisturbed. She was Olivia Hayes, the tech mogul, a name that carried weight. To the outside world, I was Ethan Miller, the lucky architect married to a billionaire, but looking at our family photo, a chilling emptiness consumed me. I saw a stranger with a forced smile standing next to a woman who was never there, and two children whose affection I' d lost to Liam Thorne, Olivia' s childhood sweetheart. Years of being a shadow, my efforts ignored, my presence taken for granted-I wouldn' t live that life again. I found the file I was looking for: Divorce_Agreement.pdf. After printing two copies, I scrolled through my contacts until I found the name that haunted my previous life. Liam Thorne. He picked up on the third ring, his voice thick with sleep. "Who is this?" "It' s Ethan Miller," I said, devoid of emotion. A confused pause, then. "Ethan? Do you know what time it is? Is Olivia okay?" "Olivia is fine," I replied. "I' m calling about something else. I have divorce papers here. I' m ready to sign them. I want to give you everything. Olivia, the children, this house. It' s all yours."

I Paid the Alpha King for One Night

For three years, I was the perfect, invisible wife. My husband, Jaden, called the songs I poured my soul into "trash," then secretly fed them to his pop-star mistress to make her famous. Then one night, after being drugged at a gala, I woke up in a stranger's bed. It wasn't just the betrayal that shattered me; it was the soul-deep certainty that this powerful, dangerous man was my true fated mate. I fled home in a panic, only to find a message on Jaden's phone confirming my worst fears. His mistress, the woman singing my songs on the radio, was pregnant with the baby he'd always told me I was too weak to carry. The nightmare deepened when I learned the identity of the man from the hotel. He was Carter Mcclain, the ruthless Alpha King-and my husband's older brother. He looked at me with eyes that knew my secret, his cruel smirk promising that my life was now a game for his amusement. Jaden had stolen my music, my dream of a family, and my future, leaving me trapped between his betrayal and his terrifying brother. He thought he had broken me, leaving me with nothing. He forgot he left me with the rage that wrote the songs. And I was about to write their final, brutal verse.

After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash

Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief." But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be.

Marrying A Secret Zillionaire: Happy Ever After

Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."

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.

My Alpha's Heartless Contract Wife

"Anya, a 'wolfless' in a world of powerful werewolves, was invisible, drowning her sorrows and desperately lonely. One drunken text, a desperate cry for attention, accidentally reached the Alpha, pulling her into his terrifying orbit. Now, she's trapped, a pawn in his game, forced to warm his bed while he waits for his true mate, her heart breaking with every stolen moment. As a 'wolfless' in the Blackwood Pack, Anya felt like an outsider, always yearning for a connection. One night, in a drunken haze, a misdirected text meant for her best friend landed in Alpha Declan Blackwood's inbox: ""Send me something hot."" Minutes later, the most powerful, terrifying man in the Pack stood at her door, claiming her with a possessive kiss that ignited a dangerous, unwanted fire. The next morning, his cold indifference shattered her world. Publicly humiliated and instantly fired, Anya became a pariah. Her dying mother's urgent need for a million-dollar heart transplant left her with an impossible choice: accept the Alpha's cold, transactional marriage proposal or watch her mother die. She became his ""placeholder"" wife, a contract, not a partner, all while battling a confusing attraction to the man who treated her as property. Why did he demand her, only to remind her constantly of her worthlessness, especially when everyone knew he waited for his true mate? Her world crumbled when she overheard Declan tell his returning ""true mate,"" Kristin Larsen, that Anya was ""just a substitute."" Despite the crushing betrayal and a strange, unyielding pull, Anya, fueled by her mother's desperate need, vowed to survive this gilded cage and reclaim her life before she lost herself completely."

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."