The Unwanted Wife's Grand Design

A Final Goodbye, A Lasting Mark

For six months, a mysterious illness had been shutting down my body, but I ignored the constant pain to be the perfect, supportive wife for my successful architect husband, Clayton. The night our marriage died, he didn't answer my calls. Instead, his young protégée sent me a photo of them wrapped in each other's arms, looking blissfully in love. When I confronted him, he called me hysterical and chose her. I soon discovered she was pregnant-he was building the family we were supposed to have with another woman. Desperate, I ran to my mother for comfort, but she took his side. "Clayton is a good man," she said. "Don't be difficult." He had promised to care for me in sickness and in health, but he and my family abandoned me when I was at my weakest, dismissing my pain as drama. But that day, I received my own diagnosis: terminal brain cancer. I only had months left. And in that moment, all the grief vanished. I wasn't going to die a victim. I was going to live my last days for myself, and he was going to live the rest of his life with the consequences.

The Garage Held His Secrets

Six months into our marriage, my husband Adam declared our garage off-limits. He called it his "creative space," but it was my house, bought with my inheritance, and his sudden coldness felt like a violation. Soon, the secrecy became a prison. He began handcuffing me to our bed at night, chaining me up like an animal so he could sneak down to his precious garage while I slept. When I confronted him, he tracked my phone, punched me in the face, and threatened to take half my house in a divorce. He was a monster wearing my husband's face, and I was trapped with him. One night, after picking the lock, I crept downstairs and heard voices. It was Adam and his fugitive brother-a man who had killed an entire family in a hit-and-run. I heard his brother threaten to "handle" me. The next morning, I smiled and made my husband his favorite breakfast. But as I served him his pancakes, I added a special ingredient-a powerful laxative, enough to send him straight to the emergency room. He thought he had me cornered. He had no idea I was about to burn his entire world to the ground.

Stolen Melody, A Love Betrayed

My fiancé, Jake, and my sister, Brittany, stole the song I had poured my soul into for three years. It was my masterpiece, the one that was supposed to define our careers together. I heard their entire plan through the half-open door of the recording studio. "It' s the only way you' ll win the Vanguard Award, Brit," Jake insisted. "This is your one shot." My own family was in on it. "She' s the talent, I know, but she can' t handle the pressure," Brittany said, quoting our parents. "It' s better this way, for the family." They saw me as an engine, a tool, not a daughter or the woman Jake was supposed to marry in three months. The truth was a slow, freezing poison. The man I loved, the family who raised me-they had been feeding on my talent since the day I was born. And the baby I was carrying? It wasn't a symbol of our future; it was just the final lock on the cage they'd built around me. Later, Jake found me trembling on our apartment floor, feigning concern. He pulled me into an embrace, murmuring into my hair, "We have so much to look forward to. We have to think about the baby." That's when I knew exactly what I had to do. The next day, I made a call. As Jake listened in on another line, his voice cracking with a panic that was finally real, I calmly spoke into the phone. "Yes, hello. I' d like to confirm my appointment for tomorrow." "The one for the… procedure."

His Betrayal, Her Unbreakable Love Story

On my twenty-second birthday, I held my future in my hands: a prestigious fellowship to Cambridge, paid for with my entire life savings. But my brothers decided that future belonged to our adopted sister, Ava. They took every penny I had to pay for her "emergency" cosmetic surgery. When I protested, they called me selfish and cruel. "If you can't be compassionate," my brother Dante sneered, "then get out." They chose a liar's crocodile tears over their own sister's dream. Days later, while they were on the luxurious Hawaiian vacation they had always promised me, I saw the pictures. Ava, radiant and scar-free, smiling between my two doting brothers. My future had been traded for her nose job and a beach trip. That was when the call came. A top-secret, fifteen-year medical research project. No contact with the outside world. A life sentence for some, but for me, it was a lifeline. I packed a single bag, left the proof of Ava's lies on the table for my brothers to find, and walked away forever.

Her Betrayal, My Rebirth

The applause was deafening, but a cold sweat trickled down my back. One moment, I was falling, the city skyline spinning. The next, I was here, at the TechFusion conference, the air thick with the smell of electronics and ambition. I looked down at my hands, steady, and took a deep breath. This was real. A second chance, pulled back from the brink of a self-inflicted end. But as I scanned the room, the past crashed into me. This was the day it all went wrong before. The host nervously announced, "It seems our next speaker, the one and only Brittany Hayes, is running a little behind schedule." Then, my phone vibrated. It was Brittany. "OMG Sarah, traffic is a nightmare! I'm gonna be late. Can you go up there and stall for me? Just say some smart marketing stuff. You're good at that. Pls pls pls save me! 🙏" Word for word, the exact same manipulative plea that had led to my public humiliation and downfall. In my past life, I' d been naive enough to agree, only for her to frame me as a desperate attention-seeker who tried to steal her spotlight. It had shattered my career, my reputation, my spirit. It started a chain of events that led to my ultimate destruction. I had lost everything. My company threw me under the bus, the industry blacklisted me, and the online mob issued death threats. I stood on my apartment balcony, the city lights blurred by tears, and I let go. The memory of my own death brought a chilling resolve. Brittany Hayes had taken everything from me. This time, the past wouldn' t repeat. This time, I knew the script. This wasn't just a second chance at life; it was a second chance at justice.

A Wife's Vengeance Unveiled

I spent twelve years loving Daniel, building a life I thought was ours. I even tried to "hide" his young mistress, Layla, convinced it would bring him back to me. But my naive attempt to save my marriage only triggered Daniel's true nature. He retaliated by destroying my father' s textile business, the company that had supported our family for thirty years. I watched as Daniel, the man I married, humiliated my father, kneeling him on the floor of our home, reducing him to tears. My mother' s heartbroken question echoed in the air: "Why would Daniel do this to us? I thought he was family." Daniel' s contempt was palpable as he informed me he would decide when our marriage was "done." He coldly reminded me that I was "nothing without him," a bitter truth that felt like a physical blow. The shame of my foolishness and wasted years consumed me. How could the man I loved, the "orphan" I believed I saved, be so cruel? How could he rip away everything from my family, leaving us impoverished and disgraced, all because of my desperate act? What had I truly been to him? But as he uttered those crushing words, a cold, pure rage ignited within me. I severed the last thread, telling him, "There is no baby, Daniel. I' m not. I had an abortion. The day you flew to Paris with your girlfriend." I was no longer his trophy wife; I was a woman with nothing left to lose, ready to fight for my freedom.

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.

Mated to The Quadruplet Bullies

Clocking 18, Suzie had just one thing in mind, to take revenge on everyone who has bullied her, including her father and the quadruplet brothers, one of them which she has given her entire heart only for him to shatter it. But hours before her shift, the goddess played a trick on her, mating her to the same brothers she desperately wanted to play with their lives. What would become of Suzie’s revenge especially now that the four brothers want to be with her? Even with their lives in danger, all they want is for their mate, whom they have tortured all this years to love and forgive them. Would this be possible for Suzie? Or would she turn a blind eye and watch their lives turn miserable? Find out.

The Forgotten Mother's Vow: Taking Back What's Hers

Isabelle's love for Kolton held flawless for fifteen years-until the day she delivered their children and slipped into a coma. He leaned to her ear and whispered, "Don't wake up. You're worthless to me now." The twins later clutched another woman's hand and chirped, "Mommy," splintering Isabelle's heart. She woke, filed for divorce, and disappeared. Only then did Kolton notice her fingerprints on every habit. They met again: she emerged as the lead medical specialist, radiant and unmoved. But at her engagement gala, she leapt into a tycoon's arms. Jealous, he crushed a glass, blood wetting his palm. He believed as soon as he made a move, Isabelle would return to him. After all, she had loved him deeply.

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.

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.

Too Late For Regret: The Genius Heiress Who Shines

Blinded in a crash, Cary was rejected by every socialite—except Evelina, who married him without hesitation. Three years later, he regained his sight and ended their marriage. "We’ve already lost so many years. I won’t let her waste another one on me." Evelina signed the divorce papers without a word. Everyone mocked her fall—until they discovered that the miracle doctor, jewelry mogul, stock genius, top hacker, and the President's true daughter… were all her. When Cary came crawling back, a ruthless tycoon had him kicked out. "She's my wife now. Get lost."