From Stand-In to Sterling

He Chose His Ex, I Chose Vengeance

On the day I was supposed to marry Giovanni Moretti, he publicly declared I was his brother’s girl. He called off our wedding at the last minute. His ex, Sofia, had amnesia after a car crash, her memory reset to a time when they were still deeply in love. So he cast me aside in my wedding dress to play the part of her devoted boyfriend. For a month, I was forced to live as a "guest" in the Moretti estate, watching him dote on her and rebuild their past, all while promising he would marry me as soon as she recovered. Then I overheard the truth. Giovanni had the cure for her amnesia locked away in his safe. He wasn't trapped. He was indulging, savoring a second chance with the love of his life. He was confident I was his property, that I would simply wait until he was done. He told his men he could have us both. He used his brother's name to humiliate me. Fine. I would use his brother's name to destroy him. I walked into the office of the true power in the family, Don Domenico Moretti. "Your brother said I am your companion," I told him. "Let's make it real. Marry me."

Her Own Kind of Happy Ever After

My lake trip with Ethan, my fiancé and a rising finance star, was supposed to be our last pre-wedding hurrah. I' d meticulously packed for two, my suitcase sitting beside his, ready for our perfect getaway. Then Chloe, the estate manager's daughter my family oddly favored, pulled up with her child, claiming Ethan had invited them. Without a glance, Ethan shooed me out of the car, promising to return after dropping them off at the resort an hour away. The humiliation burned as I watched him drive away, Chloe smugly waving from the passenger seat. Hours later, my phone buzzed with Chloe' s Instagram stories: Ethan laughing, steering a speedboat, his arm casually around her shoulder in a sunset photo. They were celebrating lake life while I was abandoned. When I confronted him, my own mother and brother, Liam, sided with Chloe, accusing me of just being "jealous" and "dramatic." The final blow came on my birthday. Ethan gifted me a beautiful diamond necklace, only for Chloe to reveal she had an identical one, saying Ethan got it for her as a "thank you" for helping him choose mine. It wasn't just betrayal; it was a brazen insult, confirming I was nothing but an afterthought, discarded by my fiancé and dismissed by my family. But in that moment, pain sharpened into an unyielding clarity. I wouldn't wait anymore, not for anyone. I blocked Ethan, then secretly packed a single bag, leaving my engagement ring and the mocking necklace behind. My gilded cage was about to open as I boarded a bus, bound for a new life, far from the Hawthornes and their suffocating expectations.

When Betrayal Burns: A Husband’s Revenge

Something was wrong with Olivia. Small things at first: a new perfume, hidden texts, glossy shopping bags from stores we couldn' t afford. Then, during a video call from my business trip, the camera shifted, and I saw a men' s watch on her nightstand. A big, silver one. It wasn' t mine. Her smile snapped, her eyes darted away, and she stammered, calling it a "surprise" before disconnecting. When she texted an hour later, full of false cheer, I noticed new, expensive diamond earrings that I hadn' t bought. She claimed my sister, Sarah, had given them to her "ages ago." Her stories fell apart under the slightest probe. She was a terrible liar, her panic barely concealed by forced smiles. My gut screamed, but I clung to hope. But the cheap, plastic keychain she gave me as her "surprise" upon my return, while her brand-new designer handbag sat on the counter, next to the memory of that expensive watch, shattered any illusions. I became withdrawn, playing the broken husband. Yet, when I "forgot" my wallet and returned home, I heard Olivia whisper to Sarah about "Mr. Davies" and a deal. My sister, my own flesh and blood, had sold my wife to her boss for a promotion. The realization was a physical blow. My wife, my sister-they had betrayed me in the most heinous way imaginable. They thought I was an idiot, a clueless fool. But the game had just begun.

When the Oil Heiress Strikes Back

I thought our 10th anniversary party was the night Ethan, my musician boyfriend of ten years, would finally propose. Ten years I'd dedicated to supporting his dreams, putting his ambitions above my own, quietly funding our life. But instead of a ring, he abandoned the party for his ex-girlfriend, Molly, only to post a cringeworthy picture later that night on Instagram. It was him and Molly, her head on his shoulder, holding up a sonogram with a caption: "Starting a new chapter. Sometimes the most beautiful songs are the ones you come back to." The humiliation was instant, public, and absolute. The next morning, Molly called me from HIS phone, chirping about him making her breakfast, and Ethan scoffed at my pain, calling me "needy" for being upset he announced a baby with his ex on our anniversary. He even had the audacity to keep Molly hidden in my luxury downtown condo, the one he deemed "blood money" unfit for his artistic integrity, demanding I cook for them when I confronted him there. How could the man I loved, the partner I had built a life with, treat me with such utter contempt and cruelty, forcing me into this grotesque spectacle in my own home? That's when I picked up the phone, not to argue, not to beg, but to call my father's legal team and serve them both with an immediate eviction.

Chloe's Legacy: A Vow of Vengeance

Six years ago, my best friend Chloe and I made a pact: escape our dead-end town and conquer the world. We thrived. My husband, Alex, was Governor, and Chloe, pregnant and radiating joy, celebrated at his inaugural ball. This was our victory, our grand triumph. Then, a gunman appeared. Chloe, without a second' s thought, shielded me, taking the bullet meant for my chest. She collapsed, a crimson stain blooming on her white gown. As my world narrowed to her fading life, I saw my husband, Alex, not looking at us, but instinctively shielding another woman: Jessica Davenport, his high school sweetheart. He chose her. In that moment of terror, he protected his ghost from the past, not his wife. Chloe whispered of a "reset" clause, a way back she'd hidden, before taking her last breath. My sister, my other half, gone because she protected me, while my husband protected someone else. Rage, cold and hard, festered inside me. But then, a cryptic message arrived: Failsafe activated. Chloe' s final directive. It led to a vast, hidden network – private investigators, data miners, offshore accounts. Chloe had given me a weapon. She wanted a reset, to go back to a forgotten past. But going back meant they would all get away with it. Alex. Ethan. Jessica. Instead, I decided to burn their entire world to the ground.

The Baker's Billionaire: A Second Chance at Love

I spent forty years as Amelia Dubois, the devoted wife to Senator Julian Vance, raising our twins and smiling for the cameras. I truly believed I had it all. Then, on my deathbed at sixty, a devastating truth shattered my world: a secret prenuptial agreement with another woman, a hidden family, and my children declared illegitimate heirs. My devoted life was nothing but a convenient cover story, dismissed by Julian as an "unfortunate loose end" as I slipped away. Rage burned through my fading spirit, a fire so hot it could tear the world apart. And then, I woke up, sticky and disgusted, twenty years old, beside the man who would ruin my life. Not this time.

The Unwanted Heiress And The Cold-Hearted CEO

"You don't belong here. Get out!" Hanna, the rightful Wheeler daughter, came back only to be expelled by her family. Her fiancé cheated on her with the fake daughter, her brothers looked down on her, and her father ignored her. Then, she crossed paths with Chris, the formidable leader of the Willis family and her fiancé's uncle. "Let's pretend it never happened." Despite Hanna's hope to part ways, Chris insisted she be responsible. He threatened to reveal Hanna's true talents as an outstanding doctor, a brilliant screenwriter, and the brains behind a famous design studio, forcing her into marriage. Chris was once asked to protect someone. Destiny reunited them in tricky circumstances. He had planned to keep his promise and provide a safe haven, only to find Hanna was far from the delicate woman she seemed. She was witty and cunning...

The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon

For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted. Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke. Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph. Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!" With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off." A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!"

His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love

Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun. Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos. As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage. The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice. Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her.

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

The Phantom Heiress: Rising From The Shadows

Brenna lived with her adoptive parents for twenty years, enduring their exploitation. When their real daughter appeared, they sent Brenna back to her true parents, thinking they were broke. In reality, her birth parents belonged to a top circle that her adoptive family could never reach. Hoping Brenna would fail, they gasped at her status: a global finance expert, a gifted engineer, the fastest racer... Was there any end to the identities she kept hidden? After her fiancé ended their engagement, Brenna met his twin brother. Unexpectedly, her ex-fiancé showed up, confessing his love...