Saving The Victim Of Plastic Surgery

The Ex-Wife's Unforgiving Revenge

My fiancé, Grayson Malone, had me locked in a mental institution while I was pregnant. He stole our son, Adam, and let his mistress raise him as her own. For six years, I survived in poverty, secretly raising our daughter, Ida-the one he never knew existed. Our worlds finally collided at a school event. His mistress, Kiera, shoved Ida, whose head cracked against a metal chair. Her heart stopped. In the ensuing panic, Grayson found a journal I "accidentally" dropped. It was his dead sister's diary, holding the truth that proved Kiera's lies had destroyed my entire family. Now, consumed by guilt, he's begging for a second chance. He thinks he can buy my forgiveness. He has no idea I'm about to take everything from him, just like he did to me.

His Secret Family, My Public Shame

For five years, my adoptive family told me my sister, Seraphina, was being punished at a strict boarding school for framing me for a political crime. I played the part of the perfect daughter, happily engaged to a brilliant congressman, my life a picture of success and privilege. Then, on the night of my fifth engagement anniversary, I saw her laughing in a park with my fiancé, Liam, and their four-year-old son. My entire world was a lie. I wasn't his beloved fiancée; I was a placeholder, a political shield to protect their secret family. Every family dinner, every whispered "I love you," was a performance for an audience of one: me. My own mother, who preached about my sister’s need for "reflection," was secretly using family money to fund the comfortable life of the woman who tried to destroy me. But it was worse than an affair. I discovered Seraphina was blackmailing them. The scandal she framed me for was real, and my own father was involved. They had sacrificed me to protect their legacy from the criminal they raised. In a hidden email, she called me a "plain social worker," a fool they had to pretend to love. They were wrong. At my mother’s annual charity gala, I made a small change to the evening’s presentation. As the lights dimmed, a photo of my fiancé’s real family flashed onto the screens for all of Washington's elite to see.

The Regent's Secret

The world was a blur of pain, and Kael, my fierce protector, was there to sweep me into his arms, just like always. He was my anchor, the man whose life was bound to mine by a rare, ancient Soul-Link—a sacrifice I'd made without a second thought to save him from poison years ago. I trusted him with my life, literally. Then I saw her. First in a terrifying nightmare, then in Kael's study, a cloaked figure handing him a mysterious ornate box. Her cold, regal eyes haunted my waking thoughts, but Kael swore I was dreaming, soothing my fears with familiar warmth and a tangible clue about my missing sister, Seraphina. He couldn't be lying, not when our very souls were linked. My trust shattered when I saw Lyra again, stepping out of a gilded carriage, announcing her engagement to Kael. They'd been engaged for years, uniting two powerful families. I was nothing but a temporary amusement, a pet he'd picked up. His betrayal sent a searing pain through my chest, amplified by the Soul-Link—a physical manifestation of my broken heart. How could he cause me such profound emotional agony, yet share my physical pain so deeply? The contradiction tore me apart. He looked at me with genuine worry, yet continued to lie, continuing this elaborate deception. Why? What was this bond to him? Just a burden? I found my answer, not in his words, but in the truth. The man with Lyra was his twin brother, a calculated deception to manage his political life. I wasn't just a secret; I was a fully separate life he was living. My heart shattered. I learned then that the "medicine" he gave me daily wasn't a cure for the Soul-Link's pain, but a slow poison, ensuring my dependence, my control. He blamed me for the link, twisting my sacrifice into a curse. So I ended it, plunging a letter opener into my own heart, severing the Soul-Link, and sending him an agonizing final message of shared oblivion.

The Perfect Husband's Lie

They called Andrew Scott my perfect husband. In the glittering New York art scene, he was the doting cellist, supporting my successful career, even through our painful infertility struggles. Then he brought Molly home – a fragile young woman who soon became pregnant with his child, shattering our perfect facade. What followed was a horrific descent: Andrew, once my steadfast partner, stood by as Molly poisoned my daily smoothie and let her relatives desecrate my priceless family sculpture. The final straw came when, after Molly "accidentally" burned their baby, Andrew shoved my hand into scalding hot soup, then abandoned me to comfort his mistress. But I refused to be a victim. Instead, I orchestrated my own demise, forcing Andrew to uncover Molly's every monstrous lie, including her deliberate harm to their own child, leading to a shocking end that freed me to reclaim my life.

A Taste of Betrayal: The Chef's Sweet Revenge

It was our fifth wedding anniversary, and I, a once Michelin-starred chef, had prepared a special dinner, ready to celebrate the life I'd built supporting my ambitious politician wife, Jessica. But then came her call, a clipped, professional voice explaining an "urgent campaign retreat," followed by the devastating discovery of an abortion receipt dated two weeks prior, a decision she made without me. The next day, her Chief of Staff, David, chillingly answered her phone, confirming my worst fears: she wasn't at a retreat; she was with him, comfortably in his hotel room. My heart pounded with a mix of betrayal and raw disbelief – how could she discard our shared future, our dream of a family, and betray our vows so utterly, all while I sacrificed everything for her career? When she finally returned, furious and drenched, she kicked the custom smoker I used for my small catering gigs, sneering at my "hobby" and screaming that I was lazy, ambitionless, and holding her back, pushing me to the brink of a life-changing decision. Her contempt solidified my resolve: she had no idea the "freeloader" she was disdaining was the silent architect of her entire world, and her next move would shatter the illusion she had so carefully constructed.

Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback

Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic. Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold. "Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don’t have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'" The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip. Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child. But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall—the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame. "I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done." I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I’m not just leaving him; I’m taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood—the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.

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."

Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell

"Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress. With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap. Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell. On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered. When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling."

My Luna Became An Alpha After I Rejected Her

My Luna became an alpha after I rejected her : she was my Luna. I rejected her. Now she's stronger than ever and she has my son. Amelia's world shattered the day her daughter died-and her mate, Alpha Aiden of the Red Moon Pack, divorced her to reunite with his ex-girlfriend. Cast out, disgraced, and accused of poisoning her own child, Amelia was stripped of her title and driven from her pack. The next morning, her lifeless body was found at the border.They all believed she was dead.But she wasn't. Far from the ashes of betrayal, Amelia rebuilt herself-rising from rejection and ruin to become the first female Alpha of Velaris, the most powerful and respected pack in the realm. She also carried a secret Aiden never discovered:She was pregnant-with his son.Years later, fate brings them face to face once more. A deadly disease is spreading through the packs, and the only one who can stop it is the renowned doctor they thought had died. When Aiden sees the boy at her side-his eyes, his blood-he realizes the truth.He didn't just lose his Luna. He destroyed the mother of his child.And now, she's everything he's not-stronger, wiser, untouchable. Will she heal the pack that betrayed her?Will she ever let him near her heart again?Or is his punishment simply living with the consequences?

The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

I was finally brought back to the billionaire Vance estate after years in the grimy foster system, but the luxury Lincoln felt more like a funeral procession. My biological family didn't welcome me with open arms; they looked at me like a stain on a silk shirt. They thought I was a "defective" mute with cognitive delays, a spare part to be traded away. Within hours of my arrival, my father decided to sell me to Julian Thorne, a bitter, paralyzed heir, just to secure a corporate merger. My sister Tiffany treated me like trash, whispering for me to "go back to the gutter" before pouring red wine over my dress in front of Manhattan's elite. When a drunk cousin tried to lay hands on me at the engagement gala, my grandmother didn't protect me-she raised her silver-topped cane to strike my face for "embarrassing the family." They called me a sacrificial lamb, laughing as they signed the prenuptial agreement that stripped me of my freedom. They had no idea I was E-11, the underground hacker-artist the world was obsessed with, or that I had already breached their private servers. I found the hidden medical records-blood types A, A, and B-a biological impossibility that proved my "parents" were harboring a scandal that could ruin them. Why bring me back just to discard me again? And why was Julian Thorne, the man supposedly bound to a wheelchair, secretly running miles at dawn on his private estate? Standing in the middle of the ballroom, I didn't plead for mercy. I used a text-to-speech app to broadcast a cold, synthetic threat: "I have the records, Richard. Do you want me to explain genetics to the press, or should we leave quietly?" With the "paralyzed" billionaire as my unexpected accomplice, I walked out of the Vance house and into a much more dangerous game.

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."