The Billionaire's Secret Daughter

The Mute Heiress: My Ruthless Husband's Prize

I woke up in a hospital bed with the sting of antiseptic in my nose and my body feeling like lead. My world had been turned upside down by a crash, but the nightmare was only beginning. Instead of a doctor, I found my Aunt Ursula and a man named Julian standing over me. They weren't there to comfort me; they were calculating my worth. "Poor thing," Ursula cooed, pinning my wrist to the mattress. Julian claimed he was my fiancé, even though I’d spent a year dodging his calls. I tried to scream, but my throat felt like it was filled with broken glass. They were using my silence to paint me as incompetent so they could seize my family’s trust fund. Just as Julian tried to force a ring on my finger, the door slammed open. Hilliard Blackburn, the city’s most ruthless billionaire, walked in and tossed a marriage certificate on the floor. "I am her legal husband," he said. "Now, get out." I was a piece of collateral, traded by my dying grandfather to pay off a debt. To Hilliard, I was just an asset in his portfolio. He didn't know that I was secretly "The Analyst," a hacker who moved millions on the dark web. He didn't know about the missing algorithm that could crash the market, or that my mentor had vanished in a lab fire. The world saw a broken, mute heiress, but I was hiding a secret that could destroy us all. I was pregnant, and my stolen code was already being auctioned to the highest bidder. With Hilliard moving into my house to monitor me, I had to find the truth before my "husband" realized I was his greatest threat.

Ninety Days To Break Your Heart

I thought I was living the dream as the wife of a billionaire, until my husband came home at 2 A.M. reeking of expensive Scotch and "Midnight Rose"—the signature perfume of his ex-lover, Lucinda. While I spent my nights alone in the nursery with our sick twins, William was out in the city, making it clear to everyone that our marriage was nothing more than a cold, calculated business merger. When I finally confronted him with the evidence of his infidelity, he didn’t offer an apology. He simply looked at me with disgust and told me I was a "liability" who should stay home and play the part of the perfect mother while he lived his real life with someone else. The humiliation reached its peak at the hospital when his grandfather suffered a massive heart attack. William showed up with Lucinda on his arm, comforting her in front of the entire Sterling clan while his mother publicly mocked me for being a useless gold-digger. Even after William tried to force himself on me in a drunken rage the night before, he had the audacity to treat his mistress like the grieving wife while I was pushed into the shadows. I felt something inside me finally snap. The man I loved had turned into a monster who saw me as an acquisition rather than a human being. I was ready to sign the divorce papers and disappear with nothing but my pride, just to escape the suffocating weight of his indifference. But then, the dying patriarch called me to his bedside and handed me a sword: five percent of the company’s voting shares and a three-month ultimatum. I’m not running away anymore. I’ve decided to stay for ninety days, but not to save a dead marriage. I’m staying to become the one thing William Sterling never saw coming—his most dangerous nightmare.

My Heart Turned To Stone For Him

I was New York's "wild child" artist, sold by my father into a marriage with the powerful Camden Winters. It was a cold transaction-my freedom for a life-saving drug from my family's company. But the drug wasn't for him. It was for Brianne, his fragile childhood sweetheart, the "unforgettable love" he swore to me on our wedding day didn't exist. When we both ended up critically injured in the hospital, the doctors asked my husband who to save first. He didn't hesitate. "Save Brianne." He chose to let his own wife die. After all the lies and betrayals, I finally understood I was just a tool. My heart turned to stone. So I divorced him and vanished. But he hunted me down, destroyed the new life I had built, and dragged me back, discovering I was pregnant with his child. He thought he had me trapped forever. He was wrong. I made him a promise, and then I broke it, leaving him with nothing but the ashes of his obsession.

From Surgeon's Hands to Avenging Fire

The world knew me as Dr. Brenna Mann, the neurosurgeon with hands insured for millions. My husband, Davis, was a powerful lawyer, and our life was perfect-until he shattered it. He protected his secret lover, Kiley, after she killed my mother in a hit-and-run. Then, to silence me, he had his family' s dogs maul my hand, ending my career forever. He didn't stop there. He fabricated a video that drove my innocent sister to suicide, then held her fate over my head to force me to save his lover's mother. He took everything-my mother, my hand, my career, and my sister. The man I had vowed to love was a monster wearing my husband's skin. He thought he had broken me, leaving me kneeling in public humiliation. He was wrong. He had only created a monster of his own, one with a brilliant mind and a billionaire's backing, ready to burn his world to the ground.

The Jilted Bride's Ruthless Comeback

I flew to Las Vegas to surprise my boyfriend of seven years with a proposal, only to overhear him celebrating his new marriage to his intern, Cortney. He had won a poker game and gotten a free marriage certificate as a prize. "What about Amelia?" his friend asked. "Amelia's fine," he scoffed. "She's so devoted, she'd wait another seven years for me if I asked." His words shattered me. I resigned from the company we built together, AG Designs, and left. But Cortney wasn't done. She framed me for leaking company secrets, a lie Gabe instantly believed. He dragged me back to our home, his eyes filled with a rage I'd never seen. "You scheming bitch!" he roared, his hand closing around my throat. "You want to destroy everything I built?!" He beat me with a steel-tipped whip until I was barely conscious, leaving me bleeding and broken. He thought he had crushed me, that I would crawl back. But as I lay there, the pain forged my broken heart into something cold and hard. I escaped, not to run, but to prepare. Now, with the help of a powerful ally, I'm back. And I will make Gabe Carrillo pay for every scar, every tear, and every betrayal. He took my love and my life's work; I'm coming back to take his entire empire.

Best Friend Zone: A Brutal Awakening

"Ava, I only see you as a friend." Ethan's quiet words in the noisy bar landed like a ton of bricks, shattering my decade-long crush into a million pieces. I had just poured out years of hidden feelings, only to be met with those five simple words. It was a clear, brutal end to a love story I had directed, starred in, and watched all by myself. He finally looked at me, his expression full of a pity I didn' t want. "You' re my best friend, Ava. I don' t want to lose that." That phrase, 'best friend' , felt like a curse, a box he put me in, safe from my affections. For years, I had held onto fleeting moments, replaying them like favorite movie scenes, only to realize they were just casual gestures from a friend. My entire devotion had unknowingly sabotaged any other chance at a relationship. I was his sun, but he saw me as just another planet in a predictable orbit. The realization was liberating and devastating all at once. Driven by a desperate need to numb the ache, I found myself in a dark bar, downing tequila shots. It was there, amidst the haze, that Liam Walker, my deceased best friend Lily' s younger brother, found me. He saw through my pain, calling Ethan an idiot for not seeing my brilliance, a compliment that pierced through my drunken despair. He saw me not just as a friend, but as someone brilliant. His fierce kindness was too much, leading to a messy, desperate kiss that I instantly regretted upon waking. The guilt, tied to Lily' s memory, was a heavy weight. I believed I had crossed an irreversible line with the boy I'd practically watched grow up. My panic reached a peak when Ethan called, only for Liam to answer and coldly declare, "She was a little busy crying her eyes out after you broke her heart. You' re a bit late with the concern." He hung up, leaving me with a terrifying but thrilling jolt of electricity. Before I could process it, I sent Liam away, convinced I was just like Ethan, careless with others' hearts. But watching Ethan with his new girlfriend, Sarah, and realizing he had let my unrequited love fester out of fear, shattered my remaining illusions. Why did he never love me, even for a second? Why did he let me waste all those years? The bitter truth solidified: he was a coward, too afraid of real loss to embrace something real. And in that moment, I resolved to reclaim my life, to shed the heavy coat of unrequited love, and for the first time, choose myself.

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

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.

SCORNED EX WIFE : Queen Of Ashes

Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace. But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge. A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart. Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn. But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left? A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again? She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.

Inferno Heiress: Freed From Hell To Reclaim My Empire

Hayley was betrayed by those who should have loved her most. To save their precious adopted daughter from a punishment she deserved, her own parents sent Hayley straight into a living hell—an infamous prison where survival demanded cruelty, and weakness meant death. Four years later, the girl who had entered those iron gates no longer existed. She emerged with a single, unbreakable rule carved into her soul: Every betrayal would be repaid tenfold. The day she walked free, the world trembled. A convoy of luxury cars lined the road. A legion of loyal followers awaited her triumphant return. Her father tried to buy her silence with money. But money had long lost its power over her. Her adopted sister hid behind sweet words and false kindness. But empty smiles no longer fooled her. Everything that had once been stolen would be reclaimed—piece by piece. When her parents attempted to tie themselves to the city's most feared man by offering their adopted daughter, Hayley's lips curved into a cold smirk. "Not on my watch." Backed by a legendary hacker, shadowy allies, and an entire prison willing to burn the world for her, Hayley dismantled her enemies with terrifying precision. Then the tyrant noticed her. "You're interesting," he said. "Be my woman, and the city is yours." Hayley raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You want to own me? Survive me first." High society became their battlefield. Power collided with desire. Ambition clashed with obsession. In this ruthless game of dominance and temptation, only one would kneel first. The girl once abandoned in hell rose from its ashes, crowned by fire and vengeance—And in the end, even the most feared ruler in the city would bow, offering his empire to the woman who had conquered both hell… and him.

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."