A Billionaire's Calculated Revenge

A Mother's Cold Revenge

I was dying of colon cancer in a hospice, all my $150,000 savings for retirement and my son, Ethan, almost gone. Ethan cried, telling me his girlfriend, Chloe, stole every penny for a luxury condo. I believed him completely. My hatred for that "gold-digger" burned hotter than my cancer. In my final hours, I called the police, determined to ruin Chloe for letting me die disgraced. I died filled with pure, unadulterated hate. My last thought was of her painful demise. How could she betray a dying woman so cruelly? The injustice was unbearable. Then I gasped, not in the hospice, but in my own living room, alive and whole. The doorbell chimed-the day I first met Chloe. And as she entered, I heard her innermost thoughts: "I hope she likes this locket; Ethan said she only respects expensive brands." My rage short-circuited. Ethan had lied. My son was the monster. I was back, with a chilling chance to make him pay.

The 21st Birthday Loop

For sixteen years, I was a phantom in the Miller house, my entire existence centered on raising Caleb. My destiny was sealed: on his 21st birthday, I was to become his wife, a debt my family couldn't pay. In my first agonizing life, that wedding day led to a decade of imprisonment in their dark basement, then a horrific sale to the depraved Scrap Yard Joe, who brutally murdered me and my two young daughters. But then, a miracle: I jolted awake, it was Caleb' s 21st birthday party again. I was back. This time, I vowed to escape, coldly telling Caleb the "deal was off." His fury, fueled by his new girlfriend Chloe, erupted. They dragged me to their root cellar, where Chloe actively tried to crush me with cinder blocks. Escaping a terrifying encounter with Scrap Yard Joe, Chloe's eerie accomplice from my past, I returned to the party only to be publicly framed. A panicked confrontation led to the tragic, accidental death of Caleb' s mother-a death later revealed to be orchestrated by Chloe' s slow poison. I was beaten, battered, and finally, locked in the basement again as Chloe set it on fire, intending to burn me alive. Lying amidst the flames, every fiber of my being screamed. Why had my attempt at freedom only resulted in such a brutal, fiery trap? Was this wretched family, and the ghosts of my past, truly inescapable? Yet, fate had a cruel twist. I miraculously survived, forcing Caleb to believe me dead, consumed by guilt. He began a meticulous, horrifying revenge on Chloe, mirroring the torment I endured. Then, in the climax of his depravity, just as he raised a hunting knife over Chloe' s pregnant belly, a scarred, living ghost walked into the room: Me. And his world shattered.

My Ruthless Uncle's Justice

My alarm buzzed, a cheerful tune that mocked the dread in my stomach. Today was the day: our family road trip to Vegas. Last time, it was the day I died. I remembered the screech of tires, shrill against hot asphalt. The sickening crunch of metal, the world swirling upside down. Then, the suffocating smell of gasoline, my own blood. Frank – my father – had orchestrated it all. He'd meticulously sabotaged our car, intent on murdering my mother and me for our organs. His mistress, Jessica, had a dying son, Leo, and we were merely unwilling donors for their twisted scheme. I gasped, shooting bolt upright in my cramped suburban bedroom. The morning sun streamed through the cheap floral wallpaper, a cruel contrast to the grim reality that had just resurfaced. The gruesome memory of my death, brutally betrayed by my own flesh and blood, washed over me like a tidal wave of ice and raw panic. My blood ran cold. This wasn't a nightmare; it was today. The same day he planned to carve me up for parts. How could a father, the sworn protector, conceive such a monstrous act for another woman' s child? The sheer injustice, the chilling horror of it, was unbearable, turning my stomach. But then, the nausea receded, replaced by something cold, hard, and sharp: pure, unyielding rage. I wasn't that naive 19-year-old anymore. I was a ghost with a score to settle. This time, there would be no crash. No organs harvested. This time, they would be the ones to feel pain.

The Widow's Vengeance: A Second Chance

The funeral was a grand affair, fitting for a hero. My husband, Michael, a decorated NYPD detective, was killed in the line of duty, they said. I stood by the open casket, three-year-old Leo clutching my hand, expected to be a shattered, grieving widow. But I felt absolutely nothing. Because the man in that casket wasn't Michael. It was his identical twin, Mark. And the man openly sobbing beside my mother-in-law, the one they called "Mark," was my husband, Michael. I knew this because I' d lived this nightmare once before. In my first life, I' d exposed his lie. His response? He had me committed, claiming my grief drove me mad. From a barred window, I watched him marry his high school sweetheart, Ashley. That night, he gave our son, Leo, 'sleeping medication.' A week later, Leo never woke up. The loss of everything-my child, my freedom, my entire life-was too much. I ended it, regretting only not calling my kind college friend, David. Then, I woke up. I was back, standing before the casket, Leo' s warm hand in mine. I remembered Michael' s chilling words to his mother: "Chloe is strong. She'll manage. I'll take Mark's place." He thought I' d quietly raise our son while he lived happily ever after. He was terribly wrong. This time, I wouldn't be strong for him. I would play his grieving widow. And I would burn his entire world to ashes.

His Vengeance, Her Life

In the glittering, cutthroat world of D.C. politics, I was Ava Reed: the neglected half-sister, the family's quiet secret. When my half-sister Scarlett accidentally killed an investigative journalist, our powerful Senator father, in a panic, decided to frame me for the crime. My childhood crush, Noah Vanderbilt, seemed to offer escape, but I quickly discovered their true intent was to silence me permanently. I ran, only to be ambushed, drugged, and left for dead. My "ashes" were secretly mixed into the walls of the family mansion, my "skull" hidden as a gruesome trophy. For three years, I existed as a disembodied ghost, witnessing Noah meticulously dismantle my former tormentors, culminating in his shocking engagement to Scarlett. My hatred burned hotter than ever; why would the man I loved align himself with the very people who destroyed me? This elaborate revenge, this chilling betrayal of my memory, perplexed me. But what if the ghost wasn't just haunting them, and what if Noah wasn't betraying me at all? What if my 'death' was a deliberate fiction, orchestrated by the man who truly saved my life, and this entire, elaborate vengeance was for me?

The Mistress, The Baby, And The CEO's Wife

I flew from Texas to Boston, a bouquet of yellow roses beside me, ready to surprise Chloe for our fifth anniversary. I imagined her delight, the simple life waiting for us back home. But when I used her spare key and found her in that sterile city apartment, the surprise was all mine. Chloe was heavily pregnant. The roses fell as she confessed: our five years of shared sadness over infertility was a lie. This baby wasn't ours; it was for her ex, Julian, who allegedly had a terminal illness. Then Julian himself walked in, casually possessive, and Chloe defended him, shooing me out of what I thought was our home. My heart didn't just break; it evaporated. A "noble sacrifice"? It felt like a sick joke, a cheap trick to excuse an unthinkable betrayal. Why was he really here, and why did her story about his illness sound so rehearsed? Something snapped. Instead of walking away, I opened my laptop. "Julian Croft Boston." What I found-that he was already married to a powerful heiress, Scarlett Ashworth-Croft-ignited a cold fury. I sent his wife an email. Now, I had a plan.

MY MASTERS

For as long as Emily can remember, she has wanted to overcome her shyness and explore her sexuality. Still, everything changes when she receives an invitation to visit one of the town's most prestigious BDSM clubs, DESIRE'S DEN. On the day she chose to peruse the club, she noticed three men, all dressed in suits, standing on the upper level, near the railing. Despite her limited vision, she persisted in fixating on them. Their towering statues belied the toned bodies concealed by their sharply tailored suits-or so she could tell. The hair of two of them was short and dark, and the third had light brown-possibly blond-hair that reached the shoulders. The dark, crimson background incised their figures, exuding an air of mystery and strength. They stood in stark contrast to the unfiltered, primal energy that pulsed through the club. Shocked by the desires these men aroused in her, she was disappointed to learn that they were masters seeking a slave to divide and conquer. She couldn't afford the fee, and she also realized that they were outside her league. Emily hurriedly left the club, feeling disappointed and depressed, unaware that she had also caught the group's attention. A world of wicked pleasure, three handsome men. Over the years, they have lived a life of decadence, their lavish lair serving as a stage for their most sinister desires. But despite the unending parade of willing subjects, one woman sticks out. A mysterious stranger with white porcelain skin and a killer body, a slave, a name with no address, the first lady to attract their eye and they will go to any length to obtain her no matter the consequences.

Rising From Ashes: The Heiress They Tried To Erase

Maia grew up a pampered heiress-until the real daughter returned and framed her, sending Maia to prison with help from her fiancé and family. Four years later, free and married to Chris, a notorious outcast, everyone assumed Maia was finished. They soon discovered she was secretly a famed jeweler, elite hacker, celebrity chef, and top game designer. As her former family begged for help, Chris smiled calmly. "Honey, let's go home." Only then did Maia realize her "useless" husband was a legendary tycoon who'd adored her from the start.

The Truth About His Mistress

I was four months pregnant, a photographer excited for our future, attending a sophisticated baby brunch. Then I saw him, my husband Michael, with another woman, and a newborn introduced as "his son." My world shattered as a torrent of betrayal washed over me, magnified by Michael's dismissive claim I was "just being emotional." His mistress, Serena, taunted me, revealing Michael had discussed my pregnancy complications with her, then slapped me, causing a terrifying cramp. Michael sided with her, publicly shaming me, demanding I leave "their" party, as a society blog already paraded them as a "picture-perfect family." He fully expected me to return, to accept his double life, telling his friends I was "dramatic" but would "always come back." The audacity, the calculated cruelty of his deception, and Serena's chilling malice, fueled a cold, hard rage I barely recognized. How could I have been so blind, so trusting of the man who gaslighted me for months while building a second family? But on the plush carpet of that lawyer's office, as he turned his back on me, a new, unbreakable resolve solidified. They thought I was broken, disposable, easily manipulated – a "reasonable" wife who would accept a sham separation. They had no idea my calm acceptance was not surrender; it was strategy, a quiet promise to dismantle everything he held dear. I would not be handled; I would not understand; I would end this, and make sure their perfect family charade crumbled into dust.

Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance

Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman. As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius. When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval."

Revenge Of The Hidden Heiress

Nate's eyes darkened with anger as he took another step closer. "To my grandfather, to you and to everyone else, you may be my wife," his voice was as cold as ice when he bit out. "But to me, you are certainly not." Maddie's breath caught slightly at the sharpness of his words. "This entire facade is a business deal," Nate continued with a voice full of derision. "Nothing else. I did it to keep my grandfather from driving me insane and that's all it ever is." He let out a humorless chuckle. "So no, Maddie, you are not my wife. You're just a deal. Do you fucking understand?" **** Maddie Hayes never imagined she would ever crave the touch of the coldest and rudest billionaire ever, even though she had been trapped in a marriage with him. But life had other plans for her and her fake husband, Nate Blackwood. Just when their forced union had started to feel real, betrayal and secrets ripped them apart again. Heartbroken and furious, Maddie walked away but Nate wasn't ready to let her go and was willing to fight for her even though some wounds didn't heal so easily. Could love survive in a place where trust had been completely shattered?

Who Dares Claim The Heart Of My Wonderful Queen

After three loveless years, Neil's betrayal deeply wounded Katelyn. She wasted no time in getting rid of that scoundrel! After the divorce, she devoted herself to career pursuits. Rising to prominence as a top designer, skilled doctor, and brilliant hacker, she became a revered icon. Neil, realizing his grave mistake, tried in vain to win her back, only to witness her magnificent wedding to another. As their vows were broadcast on the world's largest billboard, Vincent slid a ring onto Katelyn's finger and declared, "Katelyn is now my wife, a priceless treasure. Let all who covet her beware!"