My Second Death, Her Sweet Revenge

The Jilted Bride Marries The Ruthless Capo

I was three days away from marrying the Underboss of the Fazio crime family when I unlocked his burner phone. The screen glowed toxic bright in the dark next to my sleeping fiancé. A message from a contact saved as 'Little Trouble' read: "She is just a statue, Dante. Come back to bed." Attached was a photo of a woman lying in the sheets of his private office, wearing his shirt. My heart didn't break; it simply stopped. For eight years, I believed Dante was the hero who pulled me from a burning opera house. I played the perfect, loyal Mafia Princess for him. But heroes don't give their mistresses rare pink diamonds while giving their fiancées cubic zirconia replicas. He didn't just cheat. He humiliated me. He defended his mistress over his own soldiers in public. He even abandoned me on the side of the road on my birthday because she faked a pregnancy emergency. He thought I was weak. He thought I would accept the fake ring and the disrespect because I was just a political pawn. He was wrong. I didn't cry. Tears are for women who have options. I had a strategy. I walked into the bathroom and dialed a number I hadn't dared to call in a decade. "Speak," a voice like gravel growled on the other end. Lorenzo Moretti. The Capo of the rival family. The man my father called the Devil. "The wedding is off," I whispered, staring at my reflection. "I want an alliance with you, Enzo. And I want the Fazio family burned to the ground."

His Illness Was A Weapon

For six years, my marriage was a clinical trial. I was the doctor for my husband Jackson' s severe contamination OCD, enduring endless cleaning rituals just for a touch. Then I found a used condom wrapper in his car. I soon learned he was breaking every single one of his pathological rules for his mistress-kissing her feet, sharing greasy pizza. His "illness" was a lie, a weapon used only against me. When I confronted him, he chose her. To protect his reputation, he threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving cancer treatment. The price for her life? I had to publicly announce I was barren and welcome his mistress and their child into our home. My six years of sacrifice, my entire life, had been a lie designed to control and humiliate me. I was nothing more than a disposable tool. The next day, in front of a room full of reporters, he handed me the script for my public humiliation. I tore it to pieces. Then I stepped up to the microphone and said, "I am here today to announce that my marriage to Jackson York is over."

Her Miscarriages, Their Dark Secret

For three years, I endured four miscarriages, each a crushing reminder of my failure, while my husband, Axel, played the part of the grieving spouse, whispering comforting words and promising a different outcome next time. This time, it was different. Axel's concern morphed into control, isolating me in our gilded cage, claiming it was for my safety and the baby's, due to the stress of being married to the protégé of Senator Dennis Clarke-my biological father. My trust shattered when I overheard Axel and my adopted sister, Adeline, in the garden. She was holding a baby, and Axel's soft smile, a smile I hadn't seen in months, was directed at them. Adeline's feigned sadness about my "miscarriages" revealed a horrifying truth: my losses were part of their plan to secure Axel's political future and ensure their son, not mine, inherited the Clarke dynasty. The betrayal deepened when my parents, Senator Clarke and Barbara, joined them, embracing Adeline and the baby, confirming their complicity. My entire life, my marriage, my grief-it was all a monstrous, carefully constructed lie. Every comforting touch from Axel, every worried look, was a performance. I was just a vessel, a placeholder. Adeline, the cuckoo in my nest, had stolen everything: my parents, my husband, my future, and now, my children. The realization hit me like a physical blow: my four lost babies weren't accidents; they were sacrifices on the altar of Axel and Adeline's ambition. My mind reeled. How could they? How could my own family, the people who were supposed to protect me, conspire against me so cruelly? The injustice burned, leaving a hollow, aching void. There were no more tears to cry. Only action. I called the hospital and scheduled an abortion. Then, I called my old dance academy, applying for the international choreography program in Paris. I was leaving.

Ninety-Nine Chances Gone

For three years, I was James Cole's wife, a title he forced on me. But his relentless, obsessive love started to win me over. I was even pregnant with our child, finally daring to hope for a future together. But the day I got the positive pregnancy test, the man who had been obsessed with me was gone. He began publicly chasing a young intern, Janay Rodgers, showering her with the same grand romantic gestures he once used to win my heart. To win her over, he leaked a twisted story about my mother abandoning me, turning the public against me. He accused me of poisoning Janay and sided with his father to force me into a risky paternity test that threatened our baby's life. He orchestrated a live TV interview where my own mother was paid to call me a gold-digger, all to make Janay look like a triumphant hero. When I collapsed in pain on stage from the shock, he ignored my pleas for help. He was too busy comforting Janay, who had a "broken wrist." I lost our child that day. Lying alone in the hospital, I heard his father demand he divorce me. His brother brought me the papers. I signed them without a second thought. I didn't want his money or his apologies. I just wanted to disappear from his life forever.

The Unwanted Wife's Fiery Rebirth

My husband of five years, a ruthless New York mogul, paraded his affairs while refusing to touch me. My existence was a public humiliation, a constant, quiet ache in a gilded cage. To finally get a reaction, I staged a fake affair of my own. His response wasn't jealousy. It was violence. He stabbed me with a letter opener and threatened to destroy the one thing I had left: my late mother's memorial garden. At his mistress's birthday party-held on the anniversary of my mother's death-he forced me to my knees. I had to publicly apologize to the woman he was cheating on me with, my own half-sister, Aubrey. But the ultimate betrayal came when I discovered a secret video from a decade ago. It proved Aubrey hadn't just been there when my mother fell from a balcony. She had pushed her. And my husband-the man who swore he'd find her killer-had helped cover it all up. As I knelt on that cold floor, broken and defeated, he made his final choice. He pressed a button on a remote, and my mother's garden exploded into dust and ash. In that moment, the woman he thought he knew died, and someone new was born from the wreckage.

The Defective Omega Is The White Wolf Queen

After five years of being sneered at as the "defective" Omega, I finally held the plastic stick with two pink lines. I thought this pup would finally make my mate, Alpha David, love me. But when I rushed to his office to surprise him, I heard him laughing with his Beta. "Sarah is just a pet," David's voice rumbled. "I'm micro-dosing her with Wolfsbane to ensure she stays barren. Rebecca is the only Luna I need." My world shattered. I tried to run to protect my baby, but they hunted me down. Rebecca, his cruel mistress, framed me for attacking her, and David looked at me with pure disgust. He dragged me to an underground fight ring. Rebecca whispered in his ear, claiming my unborn child was a rogue's bastard. David didn't even hesitate. Blinded by arrogance, he kicked me brutally in the stomach, determined to kill the "abomination." "David, please! It's your son!" I screamed, blood soaking my thighs. He didn't listen. He crushed our child—his own heir—under his boot. Only after I severed our mate bond and vanished did the DNA test reveal the truth: The baby wasn't a rogue. He was a rare Alpha Prime. David went mad with grief, but I was already gone. Three years later, the doors to the Grand Summit opened. I walked in, not as the weak Omega he discarded, but as the legendary White Wolf Queen. David fell to his knees, weeping and begging for a second chance. I looked down at the broken man. "You killed your son," I whispered, my aura crushing him into the floor. "Now, live with the ghost."

Celestial Queen: Revenge Is Sweet When You're A Zillionaire Heiress

After being kicked out of her home, Harlee learned she wasn't the biological daughter of her family. Rumors had it that her impoverished biological family favored sons and planned to profit from her return. Unexpectedly, her real father was a zillionaire, catapulting her into immense wealth and making her the most cherished member of the family. While they anticipated her disgrace, Harlee secretly held design patents worth billions. Celebrated for her brilliance, she was invited to mentor in a national astronomy group, drew interest from wealthy suitors, and caught the eye of a mysterious figure, ascending to legendary status.

Craving The Wrong Brother

She spent ten years chasing after the right brother, only to fall for the wrong one in one weekend. ~~~ Sloane Mercer has been hopelessly in love with her best friend, Finn Hartley, since college. For ten long years, she's stood by him, stitching him back together every time Delilah Crestfield-his toxic on-and-off girlfriend-shattered his heart. But when Delilah gets engaged to another man, Sloane thinks this might finally be her chance to have Finn for herself. She couldn't be more wrong. Heartbroken and desperate, Finn decides to crash Delilah's wedding and fight for her one last time. And he wants Sloane by his side. Reluctantly, Sloane follows him to Asheville, hoping that being close to Finn will somehow make him see her the way she's always seen him. Everything changes when she meets Knox Hartley, Finn's older brother-a man who couldn't be more different from Finn. He's dangerously magnetic. Knox sees right through Sloane and makes it his mission to pull her into his world. What starts as a game-a twisted bet between them-soon turns into something deeper. Sloane is trapped between two brothers: one who's always broken her heart and another who seems hell-bent on claiming it... no matter the cost. CONTENT WARNING: This story is strongly 18+. It delves into dark romance themes such as obsession and lust with morally complex characters. While this is a love story, reader discretion is advised.  

Reborn And Remade: Pursued By The Billionaire

In her previous life, Kimberly endured the betrayal of her husband, the cruel machinations of an evil woman, and the endless tyranny of her in-laws. It culminated in the bankruptcy of her family, and ultimately, her death. After being reborn, she resolved to seek retribution against those who had wronged her, and ensure her family's prosperity. To her shock, the most unattainable man from her past suddenly set his sights on her. "You may have overlooked me before, but I shall capture your heart this time around."

Invisible To Her Bully

Unlike her twin brother, Jackson, Jessa struggled with her weight and very few friends. Jackson was an athlete and the epitome of popularity, while Jessa felt invisible. Noah was the quintessential "It" guy at school-charismatic, well-liked, and undeniably handsome. To make matters worse, he was Jackson's best friend and Jessa's biggest bully. During their senior year, Jessa decides it was time for her to gain some self-confidence, find her true beauty and not be the invisible twin. As Jessa transformed, she begins to catch the eye of everyone around her, especially Noah. Noah, initially blinded by his perception of Jessa as merely Jackson's sister, started to see her in a new light. How did she become the captivating woman invading his thoughts? When did she become the object of his fantasies? Join Jessa on her journey from being the class joke to a confident, desirable young woman, surprising even Noah as she reveals the incredible person she has always been inside.

Billionaire Boss? Nah, Just A Possessive Husband!

I just got my billionaire husband to sign our divorce papers. He thinks it's another business document. Our marriage was a business transaction. I was his secretary by day, his invisible wife by night. He got a CEO title and a rebellion against his mother; I got the money to save mine. The only rule? Don't fall in love. I broke it. He didn't. So I'm cashing out. Thirty days from now, I'm gone. But now he's noticing me. Touching me. Claiming me. The same man who flaunts his mistresses is suddenly burning down a nightclub because another man insulted me. He says he'll never let me go. But he has no idea I'm already halfway out the door. How far will a billionaire go to keep a wife he never wanted until she tried to leave?

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.