Stolen Life, Stolen Style

Married to the Coldest Media King

My father was the King of Wall Street until he was branded a fraud, turning the Maxwell name into a lead weight dragging me to the bottom of the Hudson. I walked into the Brennan Media Tower with blood-red lipstick and a desperate proposal, offering myself as a "paper wife" to Garland Brennan, the coldest billionaire in Manhattan. Garland didn’t even look at me as a human being; he tore my term sheet in half and called me "radioactive" before having security toss me out like trash. I returned to my rotting apartment in Bushwick only to find my roommate’s cousin, a debt collector named Jax, waiting to break my bones. He pinned me against the wall, his hand heavy on my throat as he sneered about selling me to a club to pay off my father's debts. With my ribs aching and my back against the radiator, I had to leak corporate secrets on Twitter just to summon Garland’s private mercenaries to stop a predator. The humiliation didn't stop there. At the Met Gala, the elite mocked my dress made of construction tarp, and my father’s creditors began harassing my senile grandmother in her nursing home. I was a cornered animal, and Garland Brennan was the only hunter offering a cage instead of a grave. I realized then that in this zip code, you are either the predator or the prey, and I was tired of being hunted. Garland offered me a marriage contract that demanded total submission—no equity, no voting rights, just an employee with a wedding ring. I signed the four-hundred-page document with a steady hand, but not before hiding a legal poison pill in the fine print. He thinks he bought a silent asset, but I just secured a front-row seat to his downfall.

A Mother's Vengeance: Love Lost

The sharp pain in my son Timmy's leg was the start of it all. A snakebite. I rushed him to Mercy General, where my older son David worked as an ER doctor. He would save his little brother. But the moment I burst into the emergency room, collapsing with Timmy limp in my arms, a blonde nurse named Ashley Jones, David' s girlfriend, turned on me. She met my desperate plea for help with a cold refusal, demanding I fill out forms. When I begged her to get David, her eyes hardened. She shoved me, snarling, "Get in line like everyone else." She scoffed at my claims of being David' s mother, dismissing Timmy as a "little brat," even threatening to let him die. She stole my phone, smashing it when she saw the silver sparrow charm-identical to hers-on my keychain, screaming about David being a "cheating bastard." Ashley even called her brother Kevin, a brute, to deal with me. Other nurses and patients stared but did nothing as Ashley, ignoring Timmy' s fading breath, reveled in my anguish. She kicked my spilled purse, scattering my ID, and mocked my desperate pleas for help. She demanded I kowtow, to bow my head, begging for her mercy, while filming my humiliation on her phone. As Timmy' s lips turned blue, I swallowed my pride, head pressed against the cold floor, whispering, "I'm sorry. Please… help my son." But even that wasn't enough for the monster. She demanded I slap myself, ten times. It was then, as I raised my hand, that I saw Timmy. Still. Silent. He was gone. My son was dead. And in that moment, all my humiliation, all my fear, was burned away, replaced by a volcanic, white-hot rage.

Art of Deception

The sterile white walls of the restoration studio, once my sanctuary, felt like a cage closing in. My former mentor, Mark, stood in the doorway, his face a mask of disappointment, while my ambitious intern, Chloe, watched with a smirk of triumph. I was quitting, giving up the career I had painstakingly built, a decade\'s worth of meticulous work and groundbreaking techniques, all because of a fabricated scandal that destroyed my reputation overnight. They blamed me, the "disgraced restorer," for vandalizing a priceless Degas sculpture, a heinous act I didn' t commit but one Chloe expertly pinned on me, while her "artistic intuition" - my stolen methods - catapulted her to fame. The public humiliation was immediate, a cup of coffee thrown at me on the sidewalk, my name dragged through the mud, while Chloe and Mark reveled in their newfound prestige. I couldn' t comprehend how quickly my life unraveled, why Mark, the man I loved and trusted, so easily believed her lies, or how Chloe consistently knew my most private thoughts and theories. But as I packed my grandfather's tools, leaving behind the life they had ruined, a cold, hard resolve replaced the shame; I wouldn\'t be a victim any longer, and I would uncover the truth behind Chloe\'s "gift" and the full extent of their betrayal.

The Texas Heiress: A Reckoning

For years, I was Mrs. Matthew Scott, a Dallas socialite living in a penthouse overlooking the city, my life a polished, perfect façade. Then a phone call from the ranch shattered everything, telling me my indomitable grandmother, Maria, had been assaulted and was clinging to life. My husband, Matthew, the man I married, coldly refused to help, instead freezing every penny I had, stealing my grandmother' s priceless family heirlooms, and giving them to his executive assistant, Sabrina, whose own grandfather was Maria' s attacker. He set me up for public humiliation, making me believe an old friend would offer me a lifeline, only for Matthew and Sabrina to burst in, expose me, and announce their engagement right there. I was left broke, shamed, and utterly desperate, facing a hospital ultimatum to pull the plug on my grandmother within 24 hours. But just when I thought I had nothing left, I received a call informing me that the vast West Texas ranch, the very land Matthew built his empire on, was never sold to him at all; it was mine. Now, with a childhood friend and Matthew's biggest rival by my side, that land, and a furious, broken woman, are about to become his absolute undoing.

A Mother's Lost Decade

The oppressive silence of my home was a constant reminder of my twelve lost children. My husband, Michael, the man I loved, transformed into a monster, ripping each newborn from my arms with cold, absurd justifications. Every desperate plea for help I made-to family, friends, even strangers-was met with the same chilling betrayal. Michael merely showed them a mysterious photograph, and instantly, their sympathy vanished, replaced by a cruel consensus that I was the one who was mad, leaving me utterly abandoned in a ceaseless loop of pregnancy and loss. What dark secret did this single image hold that could turn every loving face against me, convincing them my babies' deaths were a delusion and not a horrifying reality? I was trapped, heartbroken, and consumed by the desperate need to understand why everyone believed his monstrous lies over my truth. Just as I plummeted into a final, desperate act to escape this unending torment, the 'nightmare' shattered, awakening me not to death, but to a shocking truth: my decade of anguish was a high-tech medical simulation, and the reality that awaited was stranger, and more hopeful, than anything I could have imagined.

Dark Obsession: Too Fancy To Be True

Not only did her sister stole her man, but she also took away her money, her assets—everything. Left empty-handed, she lived her life in hiding, escaping her debts. Just when she thought all hope was lost, he suddenly came into her life like a knight in shining armor. He loved her, cared for her, and gave her everything she needed. She had everything she could have and more. However, when she got pregnant, things went downhill. He started cheating and mistreating her. "I have never loved you and I never will!" he spat. With pure disdain in his eyes, he told her that she was merely a substitute. With fate reversed once again, she taught herself to rely only on herself. She built herself up from the ground and promised never to let anyone hurt her—never again.

Invisible To Her Bully

Unlike her twin brother, Jackson, Jessa struggled with her weight and very few friends. Jackson was an athlete and the epitome of popularity, while Jessa felt invisible. Noah was the quintessential "It" guy at school-charismatic, well-liked, and undeniably handsome. To make matters worse, he was Jackson's best friend and Jessa's biggest bully. During their senior year, Jessa decides it was time for her to gain some self-confidence, find her true beauty and not be the invisible twin. As Jessa transformed, she begins to catch the eye of everyone around her, especially Noah. Noah, initially blinded by his perception of Jessa as merely Jackson's sister, started to see her in a new light. How did she become the captivating woman invading his thoughts? When did she become the object of his fantasies? Join Jessa on her journey from being the class joke to a confident, desirable young woman, surprising even Noah as she reveals the incredible person she has always been inside.

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!"

I Hid His Heir from My Alpha

For two years, I was the Alpha's secret wife, a duty he resented. But the positive pregnancy test in my hand was a miracle, a blessing from the Moon Goddess. This baby, our heir, was supposed to be the bridge that finally mended our broken mate bond. That night, he left without a word. I saw on a gossip site that he'd gone to pick up his ex-lover, Isadora. Reaching for him through our bond, I wasn't met with his usual coldness, but with her emotions bleeding through him-triumph and smug possession. The next morning, I went to his office, ready to tell him about our baby, believing our child could fix us. But I stopped when I heard him talking to our Pack Healer about me. The healer said I looked fragile, that he should care for his mate. My husband laughed. "You seem to care for her more than I do," Demetri said, his voice dripping with ice. "Do you want me to give her to you? Take her. She's of no use to me." My world shattered. I wasn't just unloved; I was a thing to be discarded. I looked down at the pregnancy report, the proof of the life inside me, and made a vow. He would never know about our child, and I would sever our bond myself.

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.

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 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."