Her Truth, Unsung

Too Late, Mr. Winters: I'm No Victim

I lived in Ellery Winters’ penthouse for two years, playing the role of the quiet, unremarkable girl who fixed his financial messes in the dark. I thought we had a partnership, until I walked in to find my belongings packed in a black garbage bag near the door. Ellery stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, a silhouette of ice, refusing to even look at me. On the marble table sat a "Termination of Relations" agreement and a one-million-dollar check. "Sign it," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. He was discarding me to marry my sister, Claudine, as part of a strategic merger with the Fitzgeralds—the very family that had abandoned me to the foster system years ago. My mother, Victoria, didn't want a daughter; she wanted a tool to secure the Winters’ fortune. Silas, his assistant, looked at me with pity, expecting the "trailer park girl" to break down and beg for the hush money. They all thought I was a nobody, a line item to be deleted from the balance sheet of their lives so they could move on to their high-society wedding. I felt a cold, sharp rage bubbling up, the kind that only someone who has lived in the shadows can truly feel. I didn't beg, and I didn't scream. I just looked at the man I had protected for two years and realized he had no idea who I actually was. Why did they think I was helpless? Why did Ellery believe he could buy my silence when I knew every dirty secret buried in his Cayman accounts? I ripped the million-dollar check into confetti and dropped it in the trash. As I stepped back into the decaying Fitzgerald mansion as an "Honorary Ward," I wasn't coming home for a reunion—I was coming to dismantle both of their empires from the inside.

I Found My True Love after Dumping the Guy I Loved for Years

"Dad, I can break up with Lucas and marry into the most powerful mafia family, the Vittorine family, and wed that brutal heir." Eve's robe hung loosely, and there were kiss marks all over her neck. "But I have one condition. If you agree to it, I'll marry him." Eve's father, Robert Costa, asked her excitedly on the other end of the phone, but Eve abruptly hung up. Lucas got out of the bathroom, wiping droplets from his wet hair. Then he pulled Eve into his arms, and they fell into bed together. Eve buried her face in his chest, but her eyes were cold. She was the daughter of the Costa family and had been secretly in love with Lucas Smith, a district leader in the family, for five years. Three days ago, she was kidnapped. The kidnappers targeted a batch of goods belonging to Lucas. They used Eve as leverage to threaten Lucas. Her phone died after repeatedly trying to call him all night, but Lucas never answered. Eve was pushed off a cliff and was badly injured. She was then saved by the head of her family, so she narrowly escaped death. Lucas was flirting with her father's illegitimate daughter, Alina. Eve utterly realized Lucas's true face and stopped loving him. Lucas proposed to her today, and Eve had prepared a big gift for him. She would give him freedom.

Jilted Bride, Unexpected Proposal

Tonight was supposed to be the happiest night of my life, my engagement party to Alex Turner at the grand St. Regis ballroom. He was handsome, the heir to a fortune, and I had loved him for three years. As he reached for the ring, a woman stumbled in, disheveled and crying. "Alex!" she wailed, claiming she' d been drugged. It was Chloe Hayes, his childhood friend, the one he always called "just like a sister." Without a moment' s hesitation, Alex abandoned me on stage, scooping Chloe into his arms and disappearing into a private lounge. The crowd' s whispers and snickers burned my ears. "Did you see that? He just left her." "On their engagement night, too. How humiliating." My joy curdled into a cold, hard knot. I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. How could he do this to me, after everything? Why was I always the one left behind, the one humiliated? Just as shame threatened to consume me, another figure stepped into the spotlight. It was Daniel Sterling, Alex' s business rival. He picked up the abandoned engagement ring, ascended the stage, and knelt before me. "He can' t even be bothered to give you the ring himself," he said, his eyes surprisingly kind. Then, he held up the ring and asked, "Jane Lim, he doesn' t deserve you. Will you marry me?" My mind went blank. He then pulled out a stunning emerald bracelet. "This is a Sterling family heirloom," he declared. "It belongs to the matriarch of our family. I want you to have it." In that moment, I saw a lifeline, a chance to reclaim my dignity. Looking at Daniel, a man I barely knew, offering more respect than Alex ever had, I took a deep breath. "Yes," I said, my voice shaking but clear. "I will."

The Fortune He Never Knew

Our Maui anniversary trip was set. For years, I' d quietly funded my husband Mark' s tech startup, even his mother' s expensive cancer treatment. He thought I was just "Sarah Miller," unassuming, never guessing my father owned vast vineyards and luxury resorts. Then, at the airport, he canceled our trip. An 'investor crisis,' he claimed. My gut screamed suspicion. I checked Instagram: my au pair' s daughter, Tiffany, wearing my designer dress, passionately kissing Mark in my living room, captioned 'My man knows how to treat his queen!' I drove home to find a raging party. Mark was kissing Tiffany. When confronted, he called me a 'crazy ex.' Tiffany shrieked they' d been 'soulmates for two years.' Her friends mocked, assaulted me, tearing my dress. My au pair (also in my stolen clothes) sneered, calling me 'the help.' They then launched a brutal online campaign, leaking my private photos, twisted to accuse me of infidelity, securing donations. Mark demanded I sign divorce papers, abandoning everything. How could the man whose entire world I secretly built betray me so completely? How could they weaponize my private moments, twisting every truth? The public shaming, the injustice, felt suffocating. But I held a secret they never knew. So, I signed those papers, conceding everything. They believed I was broken, defeated. But they were wrong. My father had always called my true identity a 'trump card.' It was finally time to play it.

Her Voice, Their Sacrifice

I lived a quiet life on the Texas frontier, raised by my kind adoptive parents, Jed and Elara. My childhood sweetheart, Ethan, left for the city with a promise: he' d become a lawyer, make a fortune, and come back for me. He even sealed it with a small, simple ring. I wore it close to my heart, dreaming of our future. Then came the letter. Not from Ethan, but a cold, typewritten announcement of his engagement to Miss Seraphina Thorne, formally dismissing me as a simple frontier girl. That same day, I found Jed and Elara in the smokehouse. Not whole. Brutally, impossibly changed. I stood there, knife in hand, blood on my dress, when the first neighbor screamed. The sheriff arrested me for their murder. My silence earned me the town' s fury; they called me a monster, just as a spiritualist had once warned. Ethan returned, with Seraphina, who watched my public humiliation with a faint, cruel smile. They "found" Ethan' s old engagement letter on me, making it look like a crime of passion. But the real horror came later, in my jail cell. Someone, in the dark, had cut out my tongue. I couldn't speak, couldn't explain the unexplainable. How could I have murdered the only family I knew, the people who sacrificed everything to protect my deepest secret? Their love, their desperate final act, was twisted into my damnation. Who truly took my voice? And how could I, a survivor, explain a sacrifice so profound it defied sanity? But when Ethan, seeing my injuries, finally faced me, I knew I had to break my agonizing silence, even without a voice. With a trembling hand, charcoal on wood, I began to write. This, then, is the truth of Anya Brightwater: a tale not of murder, but of relentless love, ancient blood debts, an American frontier built on lies, and a secret that would shatter everything they thought they knew.

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

THE LYCAN KING'S TREASURED LUNA

Narine never expected to survive. Not after what was done to her body, mind, and soul. But fate had other plans. Rescued by Supreme Alpha Sargis, the kingdom's most feared ruler, she finds herself under the protection of a man she doesn't know... and a bond she doesn't understand. Sargis is no stranger to sacrifice. Ruthless, ambitious, and loyal to the sacred matebond, he's spent years searching for the soul fate promised him, never imagining she would come to him broken, on the brink of death, and afraid of her own shadow. He never meant to fall for her... but he does. Hard and fast. And he'll burn the world before letting anyone hurt her again. What begins in silence between two fractured souls slowly grows into something intimate and real. But healing is never linear. With the court whispering, the past clawing at their heels, and the future hanging by a thread, their bond is tested again and again. Because falling in love is one thing. Surviving it? That's a war of its own. Narine must decide, can she survive being loved by a man who burns like fire, when all she's ever known is how not to feel? Will she shrink for the sake of peace, or rise as Queen for the sake of his soul? For readers who believe even the most fractured souls can be whole again, and that true love doesn't save you. It stands beside you while you save yourself.

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."

From Rejected Omega to the Supreme White Wolf

I was dying at the banquet, coughing up black blood while the pack celebrated my step-sister Lydia’s promotion. Across the room, Caleb, the Alpha and my Fated Mate, didn't look concerned. He looked annoyed. "Stop it, Elena," his voice boomed in my head. "Don't ruin this night with your attention-seeking lies." I begged him, telling him it was poison, but he just ordered me to leave his Pack House so I wouldn't dirty the floor. Heartbroken, I publicly demanded the Severing Ceremony to break our bond and left to die alone in a cheap motel. Only after I took my last breath did the truth come out. I sent Caleb the medical records proving Lydia had been poisoning my tea with wolfsbane for ten years. He went mad with grief, realizing he had protected the murderer and rejected his true mate. He tortured Lydia, but his regret couldn't bring me back. Or so he thought. In the afterlife, the Moon Goddess showed me my reflection. I wasn't a wolfless weakling. I was a White Wolf, the rarest and most powerful of all, suppressed by poison. "You can stay here in peace," the Goddess said. "Or you can go back." I looked at the life they stole from me. I looked at the power I never got to use. "I want to go back," I said. "Not for his love. But for revenge." I opened my eyes, and for the first time in my life, my wolf roared.

Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises

My husband, Ethan Vance, made me his trophy wife. My best friend, Susanna Thorne, helped me pick out my wedding dress. Together, they made me a fool. For three years, I was Mrs. Ethan Vance, a decorative silence in his billion-dollar world, living a quiet routine until a forgotten phone charger led me to his office. The low, feminine laugh from behind his door was a gut-punch; inside, I found Ethan and Susanna, my "best friend" and his CMO, tangled on his sofa, his only reaction irritation. My divorce declaration brought immediate scorn and threats. I was fired, my accounts frozen, and publicly smeared as an unstable gold-digger. Even my own family disowned me for my last cent, only for me to be framed for assault and served a restraining order. Broke, injured, and utterly demonized, they believed I was broken, too ashamed to fight. But their audacious betrayal and relentless cruelty only forged a cold, unyielding resolve. Slumped alone, a restraining order in hand, I remembered my hidden journal: a log of Ethan's insider trading secrets. They wanted a monster? I would show them one.

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."