Five Years Old, Billionaire Bound

The Secret Mother And Her Cruel Tycoon

My father was rotting in a cell, and my secret son, Leo, was the only reason I kept breathing. Then, everything shattered when Augustine Hoover’s bodyguards dragged me to a remote estate and locked me in a room with a dying monster. The man in the dark was Augustine himself, bleeding from a wound and lost in a drug-induced delirium. He didn't see me as a person; he saw me as a debt to be collected. By dawn, the feverish attacker was gone, replaced by a cold, calculative billionaire in a wheelchair who told me I was now his property. I was trapped on a private island, forced to play nurse to keep my father protected in prison. While I suffered in silence, the world turned against me. My fiancé, Grant, went on national television to dump me, calling my family a disgrace. When Augustine finally brought me back to New York, it wasn't for freedom—it was to parade me at a gala where I saw Grant with his arm around my stepsister. She was wearing my dress, living my life, while I stood there with Augustine’s bite mark fresh on my neck. The humiliation was total. Augustine offered me a deal: sign a marriage contract with a mandatory "Heir Production Clause," or watch my father die and my son disappear. He promised to crush my enemies, but his touch felt like a shackle. I felt a cold rage settle over me. If I was going to be a prisoner, I would be the most dangerous one he had ever seen. I realized then that everyone I loved was a pawn in a game I didn't even know was being played. I signed the papers and officially became Mrs. Hoover, the most envied and hated woman in the city. But as we pulled up to his gothic mansion, a burner phone in my pocket buzzed with a message from my father’s oldest ally. The man I just married wasn't my protector. He was the one who framed my father and destroyed my life. I’ve entered the lion’s den, and I won’t stop until I’ve ripped his heart out.

When Pity Dies: Her Sweet Revenge

The harsh clang of the school bell ripped me from a nightmare. One moment, I was bleeding out on the cold community center floor, choked by smoke and gasoline, watching the Outlaws murder my family. The next, I was back in my high school classroom, the familiar scent of chalk and disinfectant filling the air, alive and untouched. My heart hammered-not with teenaged excitement, but with the primal terror of a ghost, knowing this was it: the day it all began. Brittany Hayes, perfect blonde hair and a weaponized smile, stood at the front, pushing her dad' s "Life Path AI" onto our entire class for free. Liam Carter, the class golden boy, nodded eagerly beside her, his handsome face alight with ambition, calling it "foolproof." A wave of excited chatter filled the room: the exact siren song that had led to ruin in my last life. I remembered standing up then, my voice trembling but determined, warning them about the AI' s flaws, its bias towards corporate partners. They' d laughed, calling me jealous, a conspiracy theorist, just because my family ran a charity center. They ostracized me, humiliated me, and then Brittany' s father' s media machine discredited my family, painting us as backward fools. Then the Outlaws came, paid to send a message, and they destroyed everything: my parents, my little sister Lily, and me. The memory burned, a raw, open wound in my soul. This time, I didn't stand up. I leaned back, a mask of calm indifference, an empty smile for Liam who glanced my way in surprise. Let them walk into the fire. This time, I would be the one holding the gasoline.

This Time, I Fight Back: The CEO's Daughter Returns

The staff party was a dull throb, a familiar exhaustion settling deep in my bones. Then Sabrina Chavez held out the brownie, her eyes wide and innocent, just like before. But I remembered the last time. Taking that brownie led to my throat closing, my lungs burning, and a severe anaphylactic shock. I was dying on the floor, gasping for air, while my boyfriend, Ethan, comforted Sabrina, who claimed it was just cross-contamination. He called me "dramatic" at my hospital bed. That "accident" cost me my promotion, gave me lifelong respiratory damage, and shattered my relationship. It all ended when Ethan, defending Sabrina again, pushed me, and my head hit the counter. I died. Now, I' m back, standing at that exact moment. Sabrina' s smile was sickeningly sweet. The world snapped into focus. This time, everything changes.

When Love Was A Trial

For forty years, my life with Elara as a humble Appalachian herbalist was filled with quiet love and shared purpose. Then, on her sixtieth birthday, a blinding light revealed her true form: an Aetheling, and our marriage, a cold "trial" to regain her powers. She abandoned me for her "true love," Caelus, cursing me with unnatural eternal life to watch my entire world slowly die. But the true horror came when Caelus, in a jealous rage, obliterated Hollow Creek, eradicating everyone I loved with a single blighting spell, leaving me the sole, cursed survivor. Elara dragged me to their glittering Aethelgard, where I was a humiliating "pet," a constant reminder of her past. The ultimate betrayal struck when Caelus framed me, and Elara, without hesitation, condemned me to the inescapable Barrow of Whispers, a prison worse than death. How could the woman who shared my heart inflict such calculated cruelty and discard me so utterly? My soul burned with an unbearable mix of grief, helplessness, and seething rage. Yet, in that forgotten abyss, I found the echoing spirits of Hollow Creek, my murdered people. They infused me with the ancient, untamed power of the earth itself, transforming me from a broken mortal into an unstoppable vessel of vengeance. I am no longer Liam, the pet. I am the wrath of the mountains returned, and Elara and Caelus will pay.

The Widow Who Wasn't

My husband, Ethan Vance, was presumed drowned, swallowed by the Serpent River. For three agonizing months, I, Ava – owner of our beloved Portland bakery, "The Daily Rise" – had been a grieving widow, the city's gray mirroring the hollow ache in my chest. My dreams felt entombed by tragedy. My friend Maya finally dragged me to a New Orleans music festival, desperate for a change of scene. Amidst the chaotic pulse and anonymous crowd, I saw him. Ethan. Alive. Laughing, his arm around Chloe Hayes, his "childhood best friend" and a flashy influencer who' d always been a little too close. He looked vibrant, not like a man who' d fought a treacherous river. I heard him brag about "escaping the grind" thanks to "Chloe' s genius plan." Then came the gut punch: "Give it another week... Ava will have really hit rock bottom. She' ll be grateful for anything when I 'miraculously' return." My husband, celebrating my destruction. The betrayal was colder, sharper than any grief. This wasn't just him being alive; it was a premeditated, cruel deception. He'd orchestrated my despair, mocking our shared life. How could the man I loved be such a monstrous con artist? My hands shook, but my voice was steady as I called my lawyer friend. "He's not dead, Ben," I told him, the cold fury replacing my tears. "He's a con artist. And now, I want everything."

The Watch That Broke Us

My 31st birthday should have been a joyful celebration, a moment of genuine warmth with my younger brother, Mike. He gifted me a luxury smartwatch, a gesture that, after years of my financial and emotional support for him, felt like a true acknowledgment of our bond. But the warmth turned to ice moments later when Mike's new girlfriend, Brittany, barraged my phone with aggressive direct messages. "Jealous old maid," she called me, accusing me of trying to "leech" off Mike and demanding *her* watch back. Mike, bafflingly, defended Brittany's behavior, calling it "loyalty" and allowing her to launch a vicious online smear campaign against me. He prioritized her whims over my needs, even lending out my professional camera equipment, only to publicly humiliate me at my office when I requested it back. How could the brother I’d practically raised, the one I’d sacrificed so much for, turn so cruelly against me? Every past act of love and support was now twisted into a cynical attempt to "control" him, dictated by a manipulative stranger. The ultimate betrayal came when he shoved me, leaving me bleeding on my floor, snatching the watch, and walking out, incited by Brittany’s taunting text. That moment transformed my pain into cold resolve: this wasn't just about a watch anymore; it was time to fight back.

The $300 Husband Is A Zillionaire

I woke up in a blindingly white hotel penthouse with a throbbing headache and the taste of betrayal in my mouth. The last thing I remembered was my stepsister, Cathie, handing me a flute of champagne at the charity gala with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Now, a tall, dangerously handsome man walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. On the nightstand sat a stack of hundred-dollar bills. My stepmother had finally done it—she drugged me and staged a scandal with a hired escort to destroy my reputation and my future. "Aisha! Is it true you spent the night with a gigolo?" The shouts of a dozen reporters echoed through the heavy oak door as camera flashes exploded through the peephole. My phone lit up with messages showing my bank accounts were already frozen. My father was invoking the 'morality clause' in my mother’s trust fund, and my fiancé had already released a statement dumping me to marry my stepsister instead. I was trapped, penniless, and being hunted by the press for a scandal I hadn't even participated in. My own family had sold me out for a payday, and the man standing in front of me was the only witness who could prove I was innocent—or finish me off for good. I didn't have time to cry. According to the fine print of the trust, I had thirty days to prove my "rehabilitation" through a legal marriage or I would lose everything. I tracked the man down to a coffee shop the next morning, watching him take a thick envelope of cash from a wealthy older woman. I sat across from him and slid a napkin with a $50,000 figure written on it. "I need a husband. Legal, paper-signed, and convincing." He looked at the number, then at me, a slow, crooked smile spreading across his face. I thought I was hiring a desperate gigolo to save my inheritance. I had no idea I was actually proposing to Dominic Fields, the reclusive billionaire shark who was currently planning a hostile takeover of my father’s entire empire.

My Husband's Affair, My Anniversary Gift

"You'll be my wife on paper only. You'll have everything-except my heart. You'll never be Marina." For five years, Lily lived as David's secret wife-his poised secretary by day, his invisible stand-in by night. Every cold touch reminded her she was just a replacement. Every whispered "Marina" cut deeper than the last. Their marriage was born from an accidental night-a mistake he turned into a contract. He wanted nothing but an image and a convenience, yet she foolishly gave him her whole heart. So when the real Marina returns, Lily knows her time as the placeholder is up. David's actions make it clear: she was only ever a convenient replacement. Without a fight, she signs the divorce papers and walks away, surrendering the position he always wanted to give to another. But why is it that the man who once swore he'd never love her... now refuses to let her go? David doesn't understand why Lily's absence haunts him. Why her quiet strength burns him in ways Marina never did. All he knows is that he's determined to get her back. By any means necessary. Even if it meant breaking her all over again. She paid the price for loving him once. Now, he'd pay for losing her forever.

The Scars Behind My Golden Dress

I spent four hours preparing a five-course meal for our fifth anniversary. When Jackson finally walked into the penthouse an hour late, he didn't even look at the table. He just dropped a thick Manila envelope in front of me and told me he was done. He said his stepsister, Davida, was getting worse and needed "stability." I wasn't his wife; I was a placeholder, a temporary fix he used until the woman he actually loved was ready to take my place. Jackson didn't just want a divorce; he wanted to erase me. He called me a "proprietary asset," claiming that every design I had created to save his empire belonged to him. He froze my bank accounts, cut off my phone, and told me I’d be nothing without his name. Davida even called me from her hospital bed to flaunt the family heirloom ring Jackson claimed was lost, mocking me for being "baggage" that was finally being cleared out. I stood in our empty home, realizing I had spent five years being a martyr for a man who saw me as a transaction. I couldn't understand how he could be so blind to the monster he was protecting, or how he could discard me so coldly after I had given him everything. I grabbed my hidden sketchbook, shredded our wedding portrait, and walked out into the rain. I dialed a number I hadn't touched in years—a dangerous man known as The Surgeon who dealt in debts and shadows. I told him I was ready to pay his price. Jackson and Davida wanted to steal my identity, but I was about to show the world the literal scars they had left behind.

Between Ruin And Resolve: My Ex-Husband's Regret

After two years of marriage, Sadie was finally pregnant. Filled with hope and joy, she was blindsided when Noah asked for a divorce. During a failed attempt on her life, Sadie found herself lying in a pool of blood, desperately calling Noah to ask him to save her and the baby. But her calls went unanswered. Shattered by his betrayal, she left the country. Time passed, and Sadie was about to be wed for a second time. Noah appeared in a frenzy and fell to his knees. "How dare you marry someone else after bearing my child?"

Abandoned Luna: Now Untouchable

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.