The Wife He Couldn't Keep

Rising From The Deep: The Heiress's Wrath

I walked into the master suite clutching a positive pregnancy test, convinced this tiny plastic stick would finally mend the cracks in my relationship with Braeden Randall. I was ready to tell him we were starting a family, that our future was finally secure. Instead of a celebration, a heavy manila envelope struck me in the chest, slicing my lip open. Photos scattered at my feet—grainy images of a woman who looked exactly like me entering a seedy motel with a stranger. Before I could speak, Braeden’s face twisted with a hatred so pure it stole my breath. "I’m pregnant, Braeden! It’s yours!" I sobbed, shielding my stomach. He didn’t hesitate. He called my baby "evidence of my filth" and delivered a kick so brutal it sent me crashing through a glass coffee table. As I lay amidst the shards, watching the white carpet turn crimson with the blood of my lost child, he simply adjusted his cufflinks and told me to "clean up the mess" before walking out. Hours later, I was bound in ropes on a yacht during a violent storm. My stepmother, Brittny, leaned in and whispered the ultimate betrayal: she had murdered my mother, and now she was finishing me off. They threw me into the black, churning ocean like garbage, expecting the waves to swallow my secrets forever. I sank into the freezing depths, fueled by the memory of that final, desperate flutter in my womb and the cold realization that my life had been stolen by a calculated frame-up. How could the man I loved turn into a monster in a single afternoon, and what else were they hiding? Now, four years later, I’ve returned to Cloud City with a heart forged in ice and a genius son who looks exactly like the man who tried to kill me. I’m no longer the victim who begged for mercy; I’m a rising star auditioning for the lead in Braeden’s new production. The games are just beginning, and I won't stop until I've dismantled the Randall empire piece by piece.

From Substitute Lover To Scorned Heiress

I gave up my family's billion-dollar fortune to build a company from scratch with my college boyfriend, Bryant. I fought my father for him, believing our love was the one thing I could count on. Then his childhood sweetheart, Kiley, came back to town, and I discovered the devastating truth: I was never his true love, just a convenient stand-in he chose because my smile reminded him of hers. He moved her into his office, let her humiliate me, and even bought her a custom wedding gown in my name, trying to pass it off as an anniversary gift when I found it. The night he came home smelling of her perfume and used his dead mother's memory to manipulate me, something inside me finally broke. "You're all I have left," he whispered, holding me tight. He thinks I'm the same naive girl who fell for his lies. But with my own family's empire now on the brink of collapse, I've already accepted an arranged marriage. And before I go, I'm going to burn his entire world to the ground.

The Billionaire Heiress's Revenge: Rejecting Her Cheating Mate

I was the Barron heiress, and everyone assumed Damien, the Head Warrior, was my fated match. But the sickening scent of rotting peaches led me to the garden, where I found him pinning Eve against a tree. He wasn't just cheating; he was admitting he only wanted me for the Alpha title, while calling that manipulative charity case his "true queen." When I tried to cut off his funding, he declared war. He sabotaged my saddle, leaving a silver shard embedded in my leg, and sneered that I was vulnerable without him. Then came the ultimate humiliation. At my twenty-first birthday party, in front of every high-ranking wolf, Eve and Damien played a deepfake video of me with Rogues. Damien looked at me with mock pity, offering to marry me only to "hide my shame," while his six brothers stood as a human shield protecting Eve. They called me broken. They thought I was defenseless. But they didn't know I had already sent a message to the most dangerous wolf in existence. Just as Damien tried to force his claim, the ballroom doors exploded inward. The Alpha King walked in, eyes glowing gold, and pulled me against his chest. "She is mine," he growled, silencing the room. I looked at Damien and his brothers, holding up a silver USB drive. "You destroyed my reputation to protect her," I whispered. "Now, let's see if you still want her when you find out she's been sleeping with all seven of you." I plugged in the drive.

The Wife He Killed Returns To Destroy Him

I stood center stage in a wedding dress worth more than a small country, waiting for my final fitting. For seven years, I had trained to be the perfect mafia wife for Ethan, the future Don. Then the door slammed open. Ethan’s underboss walked in, hand on his gun, looking at me with zero respect. "The wedding is off," he said. "Ethan had an accident. He lost his memory. He doesn't remember the pact, and he doesn't remember you." Desperate, I drove to his private villa to help him remember. But I didn't find a confused patient. I found Ethan lounging on a sofa with a model on his lap, his hand sliding up her thigh. When he saw me, his eyes weren't blank; they were cold and annoyed. He hadn't lost his memory. He just wanted to void the contract without a war. To get rid of me, he ordered a hit. My car was rammed off a cliff that night. As I hung upside down in the wreckage, bleeding and broken, I heard his voice outside. "Make it look like a drunk driving accident," he told his men. "I don't want any loose ends." He walked away, leaving me to die in the rain. But he made one fatal mistake. He didn't check if my heart had stopped. They buried an empty coffin, and Ava Miller officially died. Two weeks later, a woman named Olivia Carter opened an investment firm across the street from his tower. I remember everything, Ethan. And I’m going to burn your empire to the ground.

From His Prison To Sweet Freedom

My billionaire husband fell under the spell of a New Age guru who let my mother die, calling her cancer a "karmic debt." His devotion to her became my personal hell. He locked me in a room full of snakes, carved flesh from my arm as a ritual sacrifice, and finally, had my dog killed and forced me to eat the remains. The man who once swore to protect me became my tormentor. But he made a fatal mistake. He didn't realize our divorce had just been finalized. So I walked out of that house, went straight to the airport, and started a livestream to burn his entire empire to the ground.

His Wife's Deadly Secret

The emergency alert from my son Leo' s smartwatch vibrated against my wrist-SOS. I found him face down in the pool, still. My wife, Jessica, stood by the edge, phone in hand, a glass of wine beside her, looking utterly bored. "He' s just faking it again, Liam. He' s trying to get attention," she said, as I pulled Leo' s limp body from the water. My world shattered, and with it, a dam of forgotten memories broke. My name isn' t Liam Hayes; it' s Noah Miller. I' d been in an accident, given amnesia, and then reshaped through countless surgeries into Liam' s spitting image-Jessica' s dead fiancé. I had been nothing more than a replacement, a puppet in a life that wasn' t mine. To find out Liam wasn't even dead, that he was sleeping with my wife right under my nose? It was unbearable. Leo knew. He knew Liam wasn't his father. That's why he fell in the pool. He didn' t fall, he sacrificed himself to expose the truth. Jessica knew he was terrified of water. And she let him drown, to punish him for revealing her carefully constructed lie. While my son lay dying, Jessica and Liam were celebrating their anniversary, taking smiling photos for the social pages. The grief was suffocating, but a cold, hard rage solidified in my chest. I cradled my son' s lifeless body, pulling out my phone. My fingers trembled as I scrolled past Jessica' s name and stopped at Evelyn Reed, her mother. When she answered, I said, "Evelyn, this is Noah Miller. I remember everything. Leo is dead. And it' s time for me to leave." The party was over, and my vengeance was just beginning.

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.

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.

Diamond In Disguise: Now Watch Me Shine

Elena, once a pampered heiress, suddenly lost everything when the real daughter framed her, her fiancé ridiculed her, and her adoptive parents threw her out. They all wanted to see her fall. But Elena unveiled her true identity: the heiress of a massive fortune, famed hacker, top jewelry designer, secret author, and gifted doctor. Horrified by her glorious comeback, her adoptive parents demanded half her newfound wealth. Elena exposed their cruelty and refused. Her ex pleaded for a second chance, but she scoffed, "Do you think you deserve it?" Then a powerful magnate gently proposed, "Marry me?"

Treasured Beyond Measure: Three Brothers, One Queen

From childhood, Stephanie knew she was not her parents' real daughter, but out of gratitude, she turned their business into a powerhouse. Once the true daughter came back, Stephanie was cast out-only to be embraced by an even more powerful birth family, adored by three influential brothers. The second ruled the battlefield. "Stephanie's sweet and innocent; she would never commit such crimes. That name on the wanted list is just a coincidence." And the youngest controlled the markets. "Anyone who dares bully my sister will lose my investment." Her former family begged for forgiveness-even on TV. Stephanie stood firm. When the richest man proposed, she became the woman everyone envied. The eldest ran the boardroom. "Cancel the meeting. I need to set up the art exhibition for my sister!" The town was turned upside down.

Billionaire Boss? Nah, Just A Possessive Husband!

I just got my billionaire husband to sign our divorce papers. He thinks it's another business document. Our marriage was a business transaction. I was his secretary by day, his invisible wife by night. He got a CEO title and a rebellion against his mother; I got the money to save mine. The only rule? Don't fall in love. I broke it. He didn't. So I'm cashing out. Thirty days from now, I'm gone. But now he's noticing me. Touching me. Claiming me. The same man who flaunts his mistresses is suddenly burning down a nightclub because another man insulted me. He says he'll never let me go. But he has no idea I'm already halfway out the door. How far will a billionaire go to keep a wife he never wanted until she tried to leave?

The Surgeon's Vow: Healing My Billionaire Husband

I sat in the gray, airless room of the New York State Department of Corrections, my knuckles white as the Warden delivered the news. "Parole denied." My father, Howard Sterling, had forged new evidence of financial crimes to keep me behind bars. He walked into the room, smelling of expensive cologne, and tossed a black folder onto the steel table. It was a marriage contract for Lucas Kensington, a billionaire currently lying in a vegetative state in the ICU. "Sign it. You walk out today." I laughed at the idea of being sold to a "corpse" until Howard slid a grainy photo toward me. It showed a toddler with a crescent-moon birthmark—the son Howard told me had died in an incubator five years ago. He smiled and told me the boy's safety depended entirely on my cooperation. I was thrust into the Kensington estate, where the family treated me like a "drowned rat." They dressed me in mothball-scented rags and mocked my status, unaware that I was monitoring their every move. I watched the cousin, Julian, openly waiting for Lucas to die to inherit the empire, while the doctors prepared to sign the death certificate. I didn't understand why my father would lie about my son’s death for years, or what kind of monsters would use a child as a bargaining chip. The injustice of it burned in my chest as I realized I was just a pawn in a game of old money and blood. As the monitors began to flatline and the family started to celebrate their inheritance, I locked the door and reached into the hem of my dress. I pulled out the sharpened silver wires I’d fashioned in the prison workshop. They thought they bought a submissive convict, but they actually invited "The Saint"—the world’s most dangerous underground surgeon—into their home. "Wake up, Lucas. You owe me a life." I wasn't there to be a bride; I was there to wake the dead and burn their empire to the ground.