From Fake Divorce to Real Fortune

Love Was My Cage, Not Salvation

For five years, I was Grace Miller, the long-lost heiress to an agricultural empire, returned to my doting parents and a perfect husband, Caleb. They were my everything, the family I’d craved my whole life. But it was all a lie. A wrong turn led me to a secret farm where I found my husband playing with a little boy and Paige—the adopted daughter they told me had died in a car crash. My parents were in on it, funding their secret life and their “true” grandchild. They hadn’t just hidden a secret family; they were plotting my disposal. A voice memo on Caleb’s computer revealed their plan: to have me drugged with anxiety medication and declared mentally unstable if I caused trouble for the company. The love I thought was my salvation was actually my cage. The naive girl who believed in their affection died that day, replaced by a cold, calculated rage. At a family dinner a few nights later, my mother slid a glass of wine toward me. "You look so pale, dear," she said. "Drink this. It will help you relax." I knew it was the first step of their plan. The wine was drugged. I smiled, held their gazes, and drank the entire glass in one long swallow. The game was over. My game was just beginning.

His Pain, Her Penance

The wedding planner' s voice on the phone was professional, confirming the groom had been changed to Noah Reed. My fiancée, Chloe, thought it was a surprise party. A surprise it was. I had found a marriage certificate in her drawer: Chloe Davis and Noah Reed, married for three months. Tucked behind it was an ultrasound report: twins. Not mine. For years, Chloe was my everything, my light. She saved me from darkness, taught me to trust, to love. But now, she and her family, whom I trusted implicitly, had orchestrated a grand deception, making a mockery of my love and devotion. I was the fool in a play where everyone else knew the script. They even knew about the babies, pretending they were mine. I felt nothing. A vast, empty space had opened up inside me where my heart used to be. The pain was so deep it had turned into a strange, detached calm. They couldn't hurt me anymore. I was already dead inside. I walked away from the past, leaving everything behind, never looking back. But not before orchestrating a wedding day reveal that would expose their betrayal and shatter Chloe's carefully constructed world.

Second Choice, Shattered Heart

The fire alarm shrieked, thick smoke burning my eyes. My heart hammered as I stumbled through the haze, calling for Liam. I finally saw him, but he wasn' t alone. He was carrying Chloe Jenkins, his childhood friend, rushing out the door without a single glance back at me, leaving me in our burning apartment. A neighbor pulled me out, and on the street, I watched Liam fuss over Chloe, who had a sprained ankle. When he finally noticed me, he walked over, a mask of concern on his face. "Ava, are you okay? I was so worried." His best friend, Ben, jogged over, clapping Liam on the shoulder. "Good thing you got Chloe out. You' re strong, Ava. Chloe needed him." They talked about me as if I wasn't there, dismissing my fear, my life. "I'm not okay," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. Liam' s face tensed. "What do you mean? You're safe. I made sure Chloe was safe because she was injured. It was a logical decision." "A logical decision?" I repeated, disbelief washing over me. "I was in there, Liam. In our home. You ran right past me." "Ava, don't be dramatic," Ben cut in. "He did the responsible thing." I discovered this wasn't an isolated incident. My own cherished items, once dismissed as "overpriced" by Liam, found their way into Chloe' s hands-a bittersweet realization that I was always his second choice, a convenient placeholder. All those years, I had convinced myself his emotional distance was just his personality. I was wrong. My heart shattered as I pieced together the truth. I was never his first choice; I was just the girl he settled for after Chloe rejected him. I was a consolation prize. "We are over, Liam," I declared, my voice raw with years of suppressed pain, throwing a glass of water in his face. "It was never about the fire. The fire was just the moment I finally opened my eyes. It's about the years of lies. It's about you letting me believe I was loved when I was just... convenient." I walked away, leaving my old life in a puddle on the floor, determined to build a new one, alone.

The Stardust Secret

My alarm should have been my wake-up call, but it was Matthew' s frantic Discord messages, desperate for me to play a game of Valorant. He promised good money for a few hours of coaching – a lifeline I desperately needed with my tuition due and my mom' s medical bills piling up. I logged in, ready to carry strangers, but one player stood out: "Nyx," a mysterious, rich gamer who offered me a retainer, making me her exclusive coach. My life flipped overnight as my channel, "Stardust_vlr," exploded online thanks to anonymous, lavish donations from "0x." Then, my mom set me up on a blind coffee date with a "friend" from UCLA. It was Stella, the helpful girl who' d given me directions on my first day. We hit it off, becoming real-life friends, completely unaware of our deep connection in the virtual world. The biggest Twitch charity tournament arrived, and I finally enabled my face-cam, revealing Ethan Scott, the broke freshman. Across campus, Stella watched, realizing the face belonged to the quiet guy she knew, and that Stardust was Ethan. Just as the tournament countdown began, I heard Nyx' s voice in my headset, and the pieces clicked into place. Nyx was Stella. The shock was mutual, paralyzing us both as the biggest game of our lives was about to begin. How could my coach, my anonymous benefactor, and the girl my parents set me up with all be the same person?

Divorce: My Unwritten Happy Ending

My world was perfect. My wife, Chloe Davis, the starlet I' d built from the ground up, was adored by millions, and our power-couple image was the envy of Hollywood. Then, a quiet ping on my phone shattered everything: a tabloid photo of Chloe, smiling intimately with an unknown man, a child between them holding both their hands. "Chloe Davis' s Secret Family?" the headline screamed. My mother-in-law' s subsequent call twisted the knife, confirming the child was Chloe' s and coldly stating, "You know you can' t have children. We thought it was for the best." The revelation of her long-held secret child, combined with my supposed infertility-a shared tragedy I thought-felt like a grotesque betrayal. When Chloe calmly proposed we publicly claim the child as adopted to "benefit our brand," I realized the woman I loved was a stranger, viewing our entire marriage as a cold business merger. The love I had for her crumbled to dust. "No," I declared, the word sharp and final. "We' re getting a divorce." She scoffed, dismissing my decision as an inconvenience, not a heartbreak, and suggested I was being "unreasonable." Suddenly, I was the villain in a carefully constructed narrative, the failed husband who couldn' t give his wife what she wanted. My supposed perfect life, built on love and trust, was a lie. Now, the real story begins.

She Tried To Steal My Life. I Took Her Future.

The last thing I remembered was the stench of stale beer and damp asphalt, then the crunch of my own bones. My best friend Becca, my sorority little sister, stood by, pointing, her face a mask of cold satisfaction. She had used my ID, my photos, my name for her own sinister schemes, and it led to my brutal death in that alley by loan sharks. Killed simply because I was too trusting, too kind, too naive to see her for what she truly was. But then, I woke up. The scent of lavender laundry detergent filled the air, my body was whole, no pain, no blood. And then I heard it – the soft click of a phone camera. Becca, standing in my doorway, phone aimed at me, just like the day it all began. This time, there would be no pity, no forgiveness. This time, I was ready.

I Signed the Divorce, He Lost Everything

My wealthy husband, Nathaniel, stormed in, demanding a divorce to be with his "dying" first love, Julia. He expected tears, pleas, even hysteria. Instead, I calmly reached for a pen, ready to sign away our life for a fortune. For two years, I played the devoted wife in our sterile penthouse. That night, Nathaniel shattered the facade, tossing divorce papers. "Julia's back," he stated, "she needs me." He expected me to crumble. But my calm "Okay" shocked him. I coolly demanded his penthouse, shares, and a doubled stipend, letting him believe I was a greedy gold digger. He watched, disgusted, convinced I was a monster. He couldn't fathom my indifference or ruthless demands. He saw avarice, not a carefully constructed facade. His betrayal had awakened something far more dangerous. The second the door closed, the dutiful wife vanished. I retrieved a burner phone and a Glock, ready to expose the elaborate lie he and Julia had built.

My Husband's Affair, My Anniversary Gift

"You'll be my wife on paper only. You'll have everything-except my heart. You'll never be Marina." For five years, Lily lived as David's secret wife-his poised secretary by day, his invisible stand-in by night. Every cold touch reminded her she was just a replacement. Every whispered "Marina" cut deeper than the last. Then his ex returned. And without hesitation, David cast Lily aside like she meant nothing. So she did what she should have done years ago. She signed the divorce papers. She walked away. But now, David couldn't escape her absence. Her silence burned him in ways Marina never could. And suddenly, the man who swore he'd never love her was determined to get her back. By any means necessary. Even if it meant breaking her all over again. She paid the price for loving him once. Now, he'd pay for losing her forever.

Secret Baby: The Jilted Wife's Final Goodbye

I sat on the cold tile floor of our Upper East Side penthouse, staring at the two pink lines until my vision blurred. After ten years of loving Julian Sterling and three years of a hollow marriage, I finally had the one thing that could bridge the distance between us. I was pregnant. But Julian didn't come home with flowers for our anniversary. He tossed a thick manila envelope onto the marble coffee table with a heavy thud. Fiona, the woman he'd truly loved for years, was back in New York, and he told me our "business deal" was officially over. "Sign it," He said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. He looked at me with the cold detachment of a man selling a piece of unwanted furniture. When I hesitated, he told me to add a zero to the alimony if the money wasn't enough. I realized in that moment that if he knew about the baby, he wouldn't love me; he would simply take my child and give it to Fiona to raise. I shoved the pregnancy test into my pocket, signed the papers with a shaking hand, and lied through my teeth. When my morning sickness hit, I slumped to the floor to hide the truth. "It's just cramps," I gasped, watching him recoil as if I were contagious. To make him stay away, I invented a man named Jack-a fake boyfriend who supposedly gave me the kindness Julian never could. Suddenly, the man who wanted me gone became a monster of possessiveness. He threatened to "bury" a man who didn't exist while leaving me humiliated at his family's dinner to rush to Fiona's side. I was so broken that I even ate a cake I was deathly allergic to, then had to refuse life-saving steroids at the hospital because they would harm the fetus. Julian thinks he's stalling the divorce for two months to protect the family's reputation for his father's Jubilee. He thinks he's keeping his "property" on a short leash until the press dies down. He has no idea I'm using those sixty days to build a fortress for my child. By the time he realizes the truth, I'll be gone, and the Sterling heir will be far beyond his reach.

The Masked Heiress: Don't Mess With Her

Yelena discovered that she wasn't her parents' biological child. After seeing through their ploy to trade her as a pawn in a business deal, she was sent away to her barren birthplace. There, she stumbled upon her true origins-a lineage of historic opulence. Her real family showered her with love and adoration. In the face of her so-called sister's envy, Yelena conquered every adversity and took her revenge, all while showcasing her talents. She soon caught the attention of the city's most eligible bachelor. He cornered Yelena and pinned her against the wall. "It's time to reveal your true identity, darling."

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

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.