The Vance Redemption

One Night With My Billionaire Boss

I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn. Beside me lay Ezra Gardner—my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers. He didn’t offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement. "Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins." He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend’s apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I’d spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes. I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe. "Showtime, Mrs. Gardner." Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend’s face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down.

The CEO's Hidden Hand

Mike Collins lived a double life that was tearing his marriage apart. To the world, he was a "corporate security consultant," a boring cover for his true role as personal security head for a reclusive tech CEO. His wife, Jessica, craved the flash and status he couldn't publicly provide, growing increasingly resentful. At a lavish charity gala, her high school bully, Chad Miller, an ostentatious luxury car dealer, decided to make his move. Chad dramatically approached Mike, flaunting a thick envelope. "Here's a severance package," he boomed, "do Jessica a favor and grant her a divorce. You're holding her back." Jessica, instead of defending her husband, publicly justified her affair, claiming Mike's secretive "boring" job made him "impossible to live with." The entire room, a sea of whispers, watched the "nobody" corporate drone being humiliated. My heart ached with a cold, profound disappointment – not just from the betrayal, but the sickening realization this entire evening was a meticulously planned ambush. Chad, high on arrogance, then committed his biggest blunder. He seized Mike's discreet company phone, screamed insults into it, and triumphantly shattered it on the marble floor. "No more calls to your imaginary powerful friends," he sneered, utterly oblivious. Chad believed he was utterly destroying a pathetic man. But he had just foolishly provoked an invisible, meticulously powerful force. He was about to learn that underestimating a man who drives an unassuming Ford Fusion might be the last mistake he ever makes.

His Lover's Dawn, My Cold Floor

For three years, my estranged husband, Dayton Cole, paraded his childhood sweetheart around while I upheld our billion-dollar family merger. His latest hotel scandal splashed across the news, and I was once again called to clean up his mess, playing the part of the devoted wife. But this time was different. My best friend handed me divorce papers, urging me to finally choose myself. Yet, Dayton cornered me, using my family's ambitions as leverage. He demanded I maintain our charade for three more months-a performance that included sharing his bed. He'd humiliate me, calling me a tool for his family's image, then turn around and whisper that I was a beautiful woman he couldn't let go of. His jealousy flared when another man showed me kindness, yet he spent his nights rushing to his lover's side. The ultimate degradation came when he forced me to sleep on the floor of our shared room at his family's estate, declaring he had no desire for a wife who didn't want him. But in the dead of night, as I shivered on the cold floor, I felt his arms wrap around me, his lips brush my temple in a secret, tender gesture. I woke up alone, the warmth gone. A quick check of social media showed a new post from his sweetheart, thanking her "quiet strength" for being there at sunrise. That was the moment everything snapped. The game was over. He could have his fragile flower. I was taking back my life.

The Alpha King's Erased Mate

My fated mate, Alpha Liam, called our love a fairytale blessed by the Moon Goddess. But fairytales are lies. I discovered his was a pregnant mistress he publicly called "my queen." She sent me selfies wearing the sacred Mating necklace he gave me, while our pack whispered I was just the "bloodline problem" to be handled once his true heir was born. So on our anniversary, I handed him a gift. Inside were divorce papers and my official rejection. Then, I disappeared.

No Mercy for the Past

I was reborn, back to the day my daughter and my husband's old flame were kidnapped. Over the phone, the kidnappers demanded I choose one. In the background, my daughter Anne and another girl sobbed. My husband Jed Bennett snatched the phone, his eyes bloodshot, and roared at me, "Katrina has claustrophobia! Save her first!" In my past life, he chose Katrina Watson, and it cost my daughter's life. I laughed, tears streaming down my face. "Mommy... I'm scared..." came Anne's faint cry through the receiver. Jed bellowed again, "Amelia! Choose! Save Katrina!" I looked at him, nodded slowly, and took the phone. Then, calmly, I said into it, "Do it."

Jilted Bride, Shattered Illusion

For four years, I sponsored an artist from Queens, Demetrius Rogers. I paid his mother's medical bills, sent his sister to prep school, and funded his entire career, turning him from a nobody into a star. I did it all because he was the spitting image of my dead fiancé. Tomorrow was our wedding. But tonight, standing outside his family's home, I overheard the truth. He was plotting with his high school girlfriend, Cayla, to leave me at the altar. He never loved me; it was all for the money. His mother, whose life I saved, called me arrogant and said I looked down on them. His sister, whose future I paid for, said she only ever wanted Cayla as her sister-in-law. Cayla demanded that he not only leave me, but publicly humiliate me in front of everyone. And Demetrius, the man whose world I had built from nothing, agreed. I had tried to buy a substitute for a dead man, and this was the price. They thought I was a fool to be used and discarded. But they were wrong. The next morning, I recorded a video. "Demetrius," I said to the camera, "I know your plan to leave me at the altar. I'm saving you the trouble. I'm leaving you first." I sent the video to be played at the church just as the ceremony was to begin, then boarded a one-way flight to London.

Pregnant and Divorced: I Hid His Heir

Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit. The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena. This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone.

Rebirth of the Broken Luna: A Second Chance at Luna's Heart

Luna has tried her best to make her forced marriage to Xen work for the sake of their child. But with Riley and Sophia- Xen's ex-girlfriend and her son in the picture. She fights a losing battle. Ollie, Xen's son is neglected by his father for a very long time and he is also suffering from a mysterious sickness that's draining his life force. When his last wish to have his dad come to his 5th birthday party is dashed by his failure to show up, Ollie dies in an accident after seeing his father celebrate Riley's birthday with Sophia and it's displayed on the big advertising boards that fill the city. Ollie dies and Luna follows after, unable to bear the grief, dying in her mate's hands cursing him and begging for a second chance to save her son. Luna gets the opportunity and is woken up in the past, exactly one year to the day Sophia and Riley show up. But this time around, Luna is willing to get rid of everyone and anyone even her mate if he steps in her way to save her son.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Jilted Bride's Revenge: The Valkyrie Awakens

I had been a wife for exactly six hours when I woke up to the sound of my husband’s heavy breathing. In the dim moonlight of our bridal suite, I watched Hardin, the man I had adored for years, intertwined with my sister Carissa on the chaise lounge. The betrayal didn't come with an apology. Hardin stood up, unashamed, and sneered at me. "You're awake? Get out, you frumpy mute." Carissa huddled under a throw, her fake tears already welling up as she played the victim. They didn't just want me gone; they wanted me erased to protect their reputations. When I refused to move, my world collapsed. My father didn't offer a shoulder to cry on; he threatened to have me committed to a mental asylum to save his business merger. "You're a disgrace," he bellowed, while the guards stood ready to drag me away. They had spent my life treating me like a stuttering, submissive pawn, and now they were done with me. I felt a blinding pain in my skull, a fracture that should have broken me. But instead of tears, something dormant and lethal flickered to life. The terrified girl who walked down the aisle earlier that day simply ceased to exist. In her place, a clinical system—the Valkyrie Protocol—booted up. My racing heart plummeted to a steady sixty beats per minute. I didn't scream. I stood up, my spine straightening for the first time in twenty years, and looked at Hardin with the detachment of a surgeon looking at a tumor. "Correction," I said, my voice stripped of its stutter. "You're in my light." By dawn, I had drained my father's accounts, vanished into a storm, and found a bleeding Crown Prince in a hidden safehouse. They thought they had broken a mute girl. They didn't realize they had just activated their own destruction.

One Night With My Billionaire Boss

I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn. Beside me lay Ezra Gardner—my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers. He didn’t offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement. "Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins." He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend’s apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I’d spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes. I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe. "Showtime, Mrs. Gardner." Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend’s face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down.

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.