The Woman Who Loved a Heart

He Broke Her Heart, She Broke His Bank

I was the architect of my husband's legitimate empire, the queen to his throne as the Don of a powerful crime family. Our home was our sanctuary, our bed the one sacred place he always returned to. But in the middle of the night, I woke to a woman's moan coming from a guest room that was supposed to be empty. The space beside me was cold; my husband, Brendan, was gone. The woman's voice belonged to Kiya, my protégée—a girl I’d mentored like a sister. Through the door, I heard him call me "a piece of furniture that sleeps soundly." I heard him tell her she possessed something I didn't. Then, a video confirmed the ultimate betrayal: a four-year affair, a pregnancy, and his casual dismissal of me as a business arrangement. He called me a title, but he called another woman's child his heir. He had broken the one rule that held our world together, turning my life's work into ash. He thought I was just a fixture in his grand design, a brilliant mind he could control and discard. He was wrong. There was only one way to escape this agony. I would have every memory of him surgically cut from my mind, erase him from my soul like a cancer, and disappear so completely that not even a ghost of me remained.

His Unwanted Wife, Her Tortured Soul

I had loved Kade Cordova for ten years, but our marriage was a transaction he despised. He hated me, flaunting his affair with his lover, Kendall, for the world to see. Then, Kendall framed me for corporate espionage. Blinded by hatred, Kade didn't even question it. He had me thrown into a pre-trial detention center. In the cold visitation room, he gave the guards a simple, chilling order. "Teach her a lesson." They ripped my clothes open and violated me as he watched, his eyes filled with disgust. But that wasn't enough. Kendall faked a miscarriage and blamed me. Enraged, Kade forced himself on me, vowing to use my body as a vessel to replace the child I had "murdered." The final blow came when Kendall went to my ailing mother and cruelly detailed every humiliation, causing a heart attack that killed her. I had lost everything. My love, my dignity, and now my mother. All because of lies I couldn't disprove and a man who refused to see the truth. Standing on a bridge with nothing left to live for, I let go. But I didn't die. I woke up with no memory, saved by a kind stranger. For five years, I lived a new, happy life. Until the day the man who destroyed me found me again.

Unraveling A Twisted Marriage

The doctor's words didn't just break my heart; they erased my future. I could never have children. The cause? A fall my husband, Gregory, caused when he shoved me against our marble coffee table. I had confronted him about stealing my game for his new star protégé. While I was reeling from the loss, he was on the cover of a tech magazine, beaming, with his arm wrapped around her. They were celebrating the massive success of my game. When I went home, I found her there, wearing my silk robe, directing movers to pack up my life. Gregory didn't even deny the affair. He simply stepped in front of her, shielding her from my rage. He wasn't content with just that. He issued a press release calling me an unstable plagiarist, destroying my career to ensure I couldn't leave. His mother delivered the final, crushing blow. She told me my marriage was a transaction-my parents had traded their life's work, a revolutionary patent, just so I could marry him. I was bound by their sacrifice. He had taken everything-my work, my body, my family's legacy. He thought he had me caged, a broken trophy to display. He was wrong. That night, I doused our home in gasoline and walked away as the flames consumed my old life. Calista Gardner died in that fire. And I was finally free.

The Wedding That Never Was

The last thing I remembered was the cold, seeping into my bones on the operating table, as doctors frantically tried to stop the hemorrhaging. Then, the words that shattered my world: "The baby… the baby can' t be saved." My baby, gone. And in a flash, I remembered my husband Liam' s venomous sneer just hours before, "If it' s some other man' s bastard, I' ll kill it myself." The pain of his words, worse than labor, twisted my love for my adoptive brother into pure hatred. I believed he had killed our child. Consumed by rage, I seized a scalpel and plunged it into his chest, gasping, "If my child dies, you' re dying with him." His eyes widened in despair, not anger, as consciousness faded. His frantic shouts echoed, "Save her! Get the best doctors… And find her the best lawyer… Don' t let her find out about her father. Let her hate me forever." Tears fell onto my cheek, hot and foreign. My father? What did he have to do with this? Then, darkness. "Do you, Ava Miller, take this man, Liam Hayes, to be your lawfully wedded husband?" My eyes snapped open. The blinding white of the operating room was gone. I was at the altar, clutching white roses, in a heavy wedding dress. Liam stood before me, young and handsome, looking exactly as he had ten years ago. Our wedding day. The day my nightmare began. I was back. He leaned in, his voice a low, impatient hiss, "Ava, what are you doing? Say 'I do.' Don' t make a scene." The same cold tone, the same barely-veiled annoyance. Nothing had changed. I saw Sarah Johnson in the second row, feigning heartbreak, her hand resting protectively over her stomach. Liam' s innocent victim. Then it all crashed down. Liam' s final words, his protection, Sarah' s true manipulation, my father' s death-it was all a misunderstanding, a mountain of lies. I had died because of it once. I wouldn't walk back into that cage. "No. I don' t."

From Digital Death To Shared Reign

The final memory of my past life was a cold, digital execution. I watched David Chen, my ex-fiancé, on a hundred-foot screen at his company' s IPO launch, alive and destroying me. "Sarah Miller hacked my systems," he' d declared, pulling his new girlfriend, Emily, close. "She tried to con my grieving family and ruin Emily' s reputation." The fallout was immediate: blacklisted, our family' s digital forensics firm raided, our life' s work wiped clean. He' d sneered, "If you can' t bring back my reputation, you' ll pay." I paid. We all did. Until now. The insistent ding-dong of my doorbell cut through the silence, bringing me back to October 12th. It was the day after David Chen was reported dead, the day his parents had come seeking my help. Last time, I' d opened that door, taken their money, accepted their false promises, and poured my soul into his shattered laptop, only for him to rise from the grave to crucify me. But this time, I knew where that path led. I pressed my face against the cool wood, my voice steady. "Go away." Mrs. Chen's muffled plea followed: "Sarah, please! It's about David. We need your help." I' d lied: "No one can truly recover data from a physically destroyed device." The silence on the other side thickened with their disbelief, just before the lock on my door clicked. He was here. Already. The door swung open, revealing David Chen, perfectly alive, his charismatic smile a cruel slash. "See, Mom, Dad? I told you she was hiding something," he said, his eyes locking onto mine, a chilling, possessive fire in them. "She knew I wasn't dead." Emily slipped in behind him, a picture of deceptive innocence. He picked up my brother' s locket, a symbol of my family, and with a flick of his wrist, tossed it out the window. "You're a monster," I whispered. "No," he said, "I'm a survivor. You've had your little rebirth, your second chance. Fine. Let's see what you do with it." He knew. He was acknowledging it, and my blood ran cold. He thought he had won, confining me to this digital graveyard. But he was wrong. He hadn't just confined me. He had given me a target.

Art of Torment: A Captive's Defiance

The cold, sharp edges of the resin necklace dug into my skin, a constant, physical reminder of Alexander Vance' s twisted grasp. Just hours ago, I, Scarlett Hayes, had almost tasted freedom, only to be dragged back to this gilded cage. He didn't yell, he never did, not at first; his silence was always more terrifying than any scream. "Why do you keep trying to leave?" he would ask, his voice a smooth vibration that set my teeth on edge, entirely oblivious to the torment he inflicted. I longed to tell him that his control was suffocating, or that the fractured pieces of my destroyed art embedded in the necklace were a constant agony. Instead, I met his gaze with a defiant chin, "Maybe I like the exercise." But Alexander Vance was never fooled, not the man who saw me only as a broken bird to be possessed. My wrist still carried the faint scar from the day he broke my drawing hand, a brutal lesson in his twisted love. "Don' t lie to me," he whispered, his thumb pressing down on the mark, "You met with someone. You think there' s a single breath you take in this city that I' m not aware of?" The accusation hung thick and suffocating; he was right – I met Marcus Thorne, his rival, my only hope for escape. But what if my hope was just another cage? What if the man I thought was my savior was just as monstrous and possessive as my captor, seeing me not as a person, but as a prize to be won? The question gnawed at me with chilling certainty, just weeks before Alexander' s grand "Aion Project" launch, a monument built on the ruin of my family' s dreams. This elaborate trap, this calculated play for freedom, was not just about survival anymore. It was about discovering how deep the treachery went.

Get Back The Abandoned Luna

The night I discovered my husband's whore was carrying his heir, I smiled for the cameras-and plotted his ruin. Scarlett was born a queen-heir to a powerful legacy, Luna of the Dark Moon Pack by blood and by sacrifice. She gave everything to Alexander: her love, her loyalty, her life. In return, he paraded his mistress before their pack... and dared to call it duty. But Scarlett won't be another broken woman weeping in the shadows. She'll wear her crown of thorns with pride, tear down every lie built around her, and when she strikes, it will be glorious. The Alpha forgot that the woman he betrayed is far more dangerous than the girl who once loved him.

My New Husband Is Too Dangerous To Love!

Kristine planned to surprise her husband with a helicopter for their fifth anniversary, then learned the marriage had been a setup from day one. The man she called a husband never loved her-it was all one hell of a lie. She dropped the act, shed a lot of weight, and rebuilt herself, ready to make every bastard eat their words. After an impulsive remarriage, she accidentally exposed who she really was: a star designer and heir to a billion-dollar empire. And the bodyguard she'd hired was him all along! Who would've known, the "college student" she married turned out to be a feared underworld kingpin.

The Masked Heiress: Don't Mess With Her

Yelena discovered that she wasn't her parents' biological child. After seeing through their ploy to trade her as a pawn in a business deal, she was sent away to her barren birthplace. There, she stumbled upon her true origins-a lineage of historic opulence. Her real family showered her with love and adoration. In the face of her so-called sister's envy, Yelena conquered every adversity and took her revenge, all while showcasing her talents. She soon caught the attention of the city's most eligible bachelor. He cornered Yelena and pinned her against the wall. "It's time to reveal your true identity, darling."

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.

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...

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.