The Rodeo Queen's Second Ride

The Runaway Wife's Billion Dollar Secret

I was the high-society "fixer" who traded my freedom to pay off my father’s debts, living in a gilded penthouse as the perfect wife to billionaire Flint Harrington. My world was a silent, expensive cage until a mistress sent me a photo of my husband’s cufflinks on a generic hotel carpet. "He's not coming home tonight," she messaged, attaching a picture of a positive pregnancy test. The timing was lethal. Flint’s grandmother had just promised a multi-billion dollar stake in the family empire to the first heir born. When I confronted him, Flint didn't apologize; instead, he claimed he’d had a secret vasectomy years ago and that the mistress was a fraud. The room spun as the truth hit me. I was actually pregnant, and if Flint believed he was sterile, he would use the adultery clause in our prenup to brand me a liar and strip me of everything. In this family, a baby wasn't a child—it was a corporate asset that the Harrington Trust would legally seize the moment I gave birth. I stood there, watching my husband argue about his virility while I carried the very secret that would make me a fugitive. I was trapped in a marriage where my own body was a crime scene, and my husband was the judge and executioner. Then, my hidden burner phone buzzed at 3 AM with a melody I thought was buried in a grave. "Jo? It's me. I'm alive." It was Caleb, my first love who had been declared dead in action years ago. Flint smashed the phone in a dark rage before I could answer, but it was too late. I grabbed my passport and walked out of the penthouse. I was done fixing things for the Harringtons. I was taking their heir, and I was going to find my ghost.

My Husband's Secret Public Wife

For eight years, I was the perfect, understanding wife. My husband, Gavin, insisted his company retreats were strictly for employees. No spouses allowed. I never questioned it, believing I was supporting his demanding career. Then I saw a photo from his last ski trip to Aspen. All his colleagues were there, smiling beside their wives. And in the center stood Gavin, his arm wrapped possessively around another woman. She was wearing my blue silk dress-the one he swore I must have lost at the dry cleaners. My world didn't just crack; it shattered. I discovered that for our entire marriage, he had been living a double life. This woman, Chanelle, wasn't just his mistress. She was his public wife. She was the one who went on lavish trips to Hawaii and Europe. She was the one introduced to his colleagues and clients. She was even listed as his emergency contact-his spouse-in the official company directory. I wasn't just the wife he cheated on. I was the wife he completely erased. But my heartbreak quickly hardened into cold resolve. He was expecting tears and a quiet breakdown. He wasn't expecting me to show up at his company's annual awards gala, marriage certificate in hand, ready to introduce myself to the world he' d hidden from me.

Runaway Bride, Found Love

On my wedding day, my family fussed over my "delicate nerves" while my fiancé, Mark, told me my only job was to look beautiful. For years, they'd treated me like a fragile doll, a problem to be managed. An hour before I was meant to walk down the aisle, I overheard them on a forgotten baby monitor. They were discussing the sedative they planned to slip into my champagne. The goal wasn't just to calm my "hysterics." It was to get me through the ceremony before sending me to bed, "overcome with emotion." The moment I was gone, they planned to switch my wedding decor for a hidden "Happy Birthday" banner and turn my reception into a lavish party for my nephew. My entire life was just an inconvenient opening act for a celebration I wasn't invited to. They had always called me paranoid for feeling invisible. Now I knew the horrifying truth: they weren't just ignoring me, they were actively plotting to erase me from my own life. But my late grandmother had left me one last gift: an escape hatch. A business card for a man named Julian Thorne, with the words "Unconventional Solutions" printed beneath his name. I smashed a crystal vase, fled the five-star suite in my bare feet and a silk robe, and walked away from my life, leaving them to clean up the mess. My only destination was the address on that card.

Beyond Betrayal: A Love Rediscovered

For six years, I poured everything into building our architecture firm, our life. So, when we landed our biggest contract, I thought it was the perfect moment. At our favorite restaurant, I raised my glass and asked him, "Ethan, let's get married." He laughed, a dismissive chuckle that shattered our future. "We land the Sterling Tower project and you want to lock me down. Good timing, Miller." My stomach dropped. He thought I was opportunistic, after I sacrificed everything for us. The real problem walked in next Monday: petite, fragile Chloe Davis, his "old friend" and new personal assistant. Chloe' s smile didn' t reach her eyes as she told me, "It's so nice to finally meet you. Ethan talks about you all the time." Soon, secret dinners, last-minute "site visits" to Napa, and expense reports for king-sized hotel beds confirmed my sickening suspicions. He was cheating. When I confronted Chloe about a project mistake, she burst into tears, and Ethan rushed in, furious at me. "Why are you yelling at her? She's trying her best." He didn' t care about the multi-million dollar mistake; he only saw his precious Chloe in tears. A sharp, unbearable pain shot through me. It was the pain of finality. A text from Chloe later confirmed the depth of his betrayal: "He loves me, Ava. He always has... You were just... convenient. Capable. But you're my soulmate." I was convenient. All those years, all my effort, all my love-a lie. But then, a new chapter began: a chance encounter, a forgotten connection, and a surprising proposal that would change everything. The game was far from over.

Womb of Lies, Heart of Fury

The cold gel spread across my stomach, a brutal reminder of the life forming within me that wasn' t mine to keep. My stepsister, Chloe, watched me like a hawk, her eyes, a pale, cold blue, scanning my body as if inspecting a piece of equipment she had just purchased. She poked my stomach with a manicured finger, "You are just the vessel. A container. Nothing more. This baby is mine and Liam' s. You are not its mother. You are nothing to it." I was Ava Green, once a talented architect, now systematically dismantled and cornered into this arrangement by Chloe's father, my stepfather, Richard Sterling. Chloe' s torment, fueled by her own insecurities, escalated. She manipulated every situation, even forcing Liam, my supposed 'protector,' to abandon me to her cruel whims. But the real gut punch wasn't the physical abuse; it was the two children I had already lost in this house. The first was mine and Liam' s, brutally taken from me after he deemed it a "complication." The second, conceived for them, also vanished. With each loss, I felt a piece of myself, a shred of humanity, being chipped away by their indifference. When Liam shattered the last memento of my first child-a tiny ultrasound picture-I knew I had nothing left to lose. A cold, clear hatred rose inside me. I walked out of that house, leaving behind the wreckage of my past, ready to reclaim a future they couldn't control.

Wife's Escape: A Tragic Love

My husband, Victor, always told me I was pathetic. For four years, I endured his cruelty, his public humiliations, watching him systematically dismantle my life piece by piece, all to punish me for my father' s supposed sins against his family. He forced me to marry him, then destroyed my company, Nexus, the last shred of my identity. The final blow came when he made me sign the dissolution papers, then kicked my company' s award across the floor, calling it junk-a toy. My heart shattered as Celeste, his glamorous business rival and lover, sauntered in, mocking my pain, "Don't be so dramatic, Ava. It was just a startup. They fail all the time." Victor's cold gaze, fixed on Celeste, twisted the knife deeper. He had promised my mother' s experimental treatments and my father' s freedom from prison were dependent on my compliance. I was nothing but a broken wife, a decorative accessory at galas, my efforts sabotaged by smeared articles. Every escape attempt ended in recapture, a new punishment. I was trapped in a suffocating web of his influence, with nothing left to fight for. But then, Celeste, with a cruel smirk, snatched my last remaining prototype-the culmination of my team's dreams for helping others-and threw it against the wall, shattering it. And just when I thought the pain couldn't get worse, Victor walked in, saw the wreckage, and stomped on the last glittering dust of my creation himself. "What the hell did you do?" he roared at me, not even glancing at the broken tech. He dragged me up by my hair, his face a terrifying mask. "It' s over," I managed, my voice eerily calm, tears streaming down my face. "I want a divorce, Victor. Let me go." "It's over when I say it's over," he snarled. "You don't get to decide anything." My body went limp. I was done fighting. Then, a strange calm washed over me. If I couldn't escape in this life, I would find freedom in another. There was only one way to truly be "done." I would go to the roof.

The Convict Heiress: Marrying The Billionaire

The heavy thud of the release stamp was the only goodbye I got from the warden after five years in federal prison. I stepped out into the blinding sun, expecting the same flash of paparazzi bulbs that had seen me dragged away in handcuffs, but there was only a single black limousine idling on the shoulder of the road. Inside sat my mother and sister, clutching champagne and looking at my frayed coat with pure disgust. They didn't offer a welcome home; instead, they tossed a thick legal document onto the table and told me I was dead to the city. "Gavin and I are getting engaged," my sister Mia sneered, flicking a credit card at me like I was a stray dog. "He doesn't need a convict ex-fiancée hanging around." Even after I saved their lives from an armed kidnapping attempt by ramming the attackers off the road, they rewarded me by leaving me stranded in the dirt. When I finally ran into Gavin, the man who had framed me, he pinned me against a wall and threatened to send me back to a cell if I ever dared to show my face at their wedding. They had stolen my biotech research, ruined my name, and let me rot for half a decade while they lived off my brilliance. They thought they had broken me, leaving me with nothing but an expired chapstick and a few old photos in a plastic bag. What they didn't know was that I had spent those five years becoming "Dr. X," a shadow consultant with five hundred million dollars in crypto and a secret that would bring the city to its knees. I wasn't just a victim anymore; I was a weapon, and I was pregnant with the heir they thought they had erased. I walked into the Melton estate and made an offer to the most powerful man in New York. "I'll save your grandfather's life," I told Horatio Melton, staring him down. "But the price is your last name. I'm taking back what's mine, and I'm starting with the man who thinks he's marrying my sister."

Too Late, Hubby, I'm The Tycoon's Darling Now!

For three years, Averie pushed herself through a secret marriage, waiting for the day she could finally wear a white dress and be seen as his wife. The night before she could finally walk down the aisle, he confessed without a hint of hesitation that he was marrying the woman who once rescued him instead. The "fake" divorce agreement she signed for him shattered into a real, icy breakup that finally freed her wounded heart. When he returned in remorse, begging for just one more chance, a ruthless business magnate pulled Averie close and muttered coldly, "You're too late. She's my woman now."

Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

I stood at my mother’s open grave in the freezing rain, my heels sinking into the mud. The space beside me was empty. My husband, Hilliard Holloway, had promised to cherish me in bad times, but apparently, burying my mother didn't fit into his busy schedule. While the priest’s voice droned on, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a livestream of the Metropolitan Charity Gala. There was Hilliard, looking impeccable in a custom tuxedo, with his ex-girlfriend Charla English draped over his arm. The headline read: "Holloway & English: A Power Couple Reunited?" When he finally returned to our penthouse at 2 AM, he didn't come alone—he brought Charla with him. He claimed she’d had a "medical emergency" at the gala and couldn't be left alone. I found a Tiffany diamond necklace on our coffee table meant for her birthday, and a smudge of her signature red lipstick on his collar. When I confronted him, he simply told me to stop being "hysterical" and "acting like a child." He had no idea I was seven months pregnant with his child. He thought so little of my grief that he didn't even bother to craft a convincing lie, laughing with his mistress in our home while I sat in the dark with a shattered heart and a secret life growing inside me. "He doesn't deserve us," I whispered to the darkness. I didn't scream or beg. I simply left a folder on his desk containing signed divorce papers and a forged medical report for a terminated pregnancy. I disappeared into the night, letting him believe he had successfully killed his own legacy through his neglect. Five years later, Hilliard walked into "The Vault," the city's most exclusive underground auction, looking for a broker to manage his estate. He didn't recognize me behind my Venetian mask, but he couldn't ignore the neon pink graffiti on his armored Maybach that read "DEADBEAT." He had no clue that the three brilliant triplets currently hacking his security system were the very children he thought had been erased years ago. This time, I wasn't just a wife in the way; I was the one holding all the cards.

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."

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.

Craving The Wrong Brother

She spent ten years chasing after the right brother, only to fall for the wrong one in one weekend. ~~~ Sloane Mercer has been hopelessly in love with her best friend, Finn Hartley, since college. For ten long years, she's stood by him, stitching him back together every time Delilah Crestfield-his toxic on-and-off girlfriend-shattered his heart. But when Delilah gets engaged to another man, Sloane thinks this might finally be her chance to have Finn for herself. She couldn't be more wrong. Heartbroken and desperate, Finn decides to crash Delilah's wedding and fight for her one last time. And he wants Sloane by his side. Reluctantly, Sloane follows him to Asheville, hoping that being close to Finn will somehow make him see her the way she's always seen him. Everything changes when she meets Knox Hartley, Finn's older brother-a man who couldn't be more different from Finn. He's dangerously magnetic. Knox sees right through Sloane and makes it his mission to pull her into his world. What starts as a game-a twisted bet between them-soon turns into something deeper. Sloane is trapped between two brothers: one who's always broken her heart and another who seems hell-bent on claiming it... no matter the cost. CONTENT WARNING: This story is strongly 18+. It delves into dark romance themes such as obsession and lust with morally complex characters. While this is a love story, reader discretion is advised.