Burn It All: A Woman Reclaimed

From Neglected Wife To Empowered Heiress

For six years, my husband, Corbin, used his severe mysophobia as an excuse for why he could never touch me. I believed him, until I saw him tenderly caress another woman-his ex-girlfriend, Annis. When I was later left bleeding on the pavement after saving her life, he walked right past me to comfort her, his eyes filled with a fury I'd never seen. He didn't ask if I was okay. He didn't call for help. He just looked at me with disgust and said, "My priority is you," to her, before walking away. The final blow came when Annis smugly revealed the truth: Corbin only married me for my family's connections. He called our marriage a "contract." I wasn't his wife; I was a business deal. So, while he was distracted by Annis's "anxiety" in my hospital room, I had him sign a document he thought was a template for a friend. It was our divorce agreement. He's about to find out he's not just single-he's also broke. Because I just gave away every last cent of the fortune he gave me to win me back.

Her Only Sin: Loving Him

For two years, I lived in hiding, a ghost. But they found me. When Liam Stone' s team locked down the hospital, I lay there, a skeleton. What was coming had finally arrived. He stood in the doorway, my husband, his handsome face a mask of indifference. "You deserve this," he said, his eyes devoid of pity. The man I loved still hated me. He wouldn' t let me die. He spent a fortune keeping me alive, just to torment me. Every bone in my body felt corroded by poison. It was a living hell. Even my own mother, driven to despair by Liam' s relentless persecution of our family, plunged a knife into me. "Why are you still alive? It would be better for everyone if you were dead." Her words echoed louder than the pain. My family, the people I had tried so hard to protect, betrayed me. My only sin, I murmured to myself, fading, was falling in love with him. Liam' s words, a brutal reminder: "Only by living a life worse than death can you comfort my sister' s spirit in heaven." But Ella' s death had nothing to do with me. I never envied her relationship with him; I cherished it. My love for him burned with a purity he never saw. Now, it must end. On the rooftop, overlooking the city, I prepared to leap. Soon, I would be free.

The Truth She Couldn't Tell

Eight years ago, I gave up everything to save the man I loved. I was an award-winning investigative journalist, Ava Miller, and I put Marcus Thorne in prison - a choice that broke us both. I promised myself he' d be safe, even if it meant he' d hate me forever. But the truth was far more complex than a simple betrayal. A cruel family secret, a hidden illness eating away at my mind, turned me into a stranger even to myself. Now he' s back, richer and colder, engaged to my former best friend Chloe, and determined to make me pay for a crime I didn' t commit. He thinks I' m a liar, a gold-digger, broken and pathetic. He doesn' t know the real reason I did what I did, or that my memory is failing, turning my past into a terrifying blank. With nowhere left to turn, and my mind slipping away, there' s only one way I can tell him the truth, one last desperate message before I lose it all… or myself. I have to make him understand, even if it' s the last thing I ever do.

Too Late, Mr. Scott: She's Someone Else's Wife

Five years Maria waited, raising their daughter Lily alone, believing their arranged engagement was still her future. Then Ryan returned, not with an embrace, but a summons to a chic café where he introduced his true love, Maria's own sister Gabrielle, and their daughter, Chloe. He offered Maria a humiliating "deal": marry him on paper for family business, but live as a "family manager" while he played husband to Gabrielle. The ultimate betrayal shattered Maria's world when, at a party, Ryan witnessed Lily being pushed, and without a second thought, slapped their own daughter across the face. Faced with a monstrous stranger, and seeing Lily nearly drown while Ryan prioritized Chloe, Maria knows she can't just walk away; she has to destroy him.

A Billionaire's Second Chance

My last breath was a gasp of pure, stupid shock. The sterile white room, the doctor' s flat voice delivering my death sentence-a massive coronary, brought on by stress. But it wasn't stress. It was betrayal. My wife, Jennifer, stood over me, her sweet mask replaced by a cold, triumphant sneer. "The baby?" she hissed, her voice dripping venom. "It' s Ryan' s. It was always going to be Ryan' s." Ryan. Her childhood sweetheart. The man whose limp I pitied, whose medical bills I paid, fueling their luxurious life. She laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "I came to your room right after I finished with Ryan. We planned it all, you pathetic fool. I never loved you. I despised you. Thanks for the easy life." The pain in my chest wasn't just my failing heart. It was the crushing weight of my own idiocy. My billions bought me the most elaborate, painful death imaginable. My vision tunneled, Jennifer' s hateful face the last thing I saw. Then, a roar filled my ears. The Texas sun on my neck. I was on one knee, a diamond bracelet glittering in my hand, facing Jennifer Smith. This was it. The exact moment I sealed my doom. The grand, public proposal that had cost me everything. But this time, I knew. I knew about Ryan' s fake limp. I knew they' d slept together less than an hour ago. I knew this was all a carefully staged play. This time, things would be different. This time, I' d rewrite my ending.

Too Late, Mr. Morris: She's Mrs. Blakely Now

Five years ago, I stood alone in my simple white dress, abandoned at the altar by my high school sweetheart, Ryan Morris, for another woman. Heartbroken, I fled to Paris, found my passion, and built a new life as Jocelyn Blakely, wife to the powerful heir, Andrew. Now, three months pregnant, I returned to New Orleans, only to be met at the airport by none other than Ryan, who had become a petty valet. He and his new girlfriend, Sabrina, reveled in mocking me, physically shoving me to the ground, causing a sharp pain in my abdomen. The humiliation deepened at Andrew's grandfather's gala. Ryan and Sabrina publicly shamed me, shattered a precious sugar sculpture I crafted, and stole the locket Andrew gave me. Ryan even slapped me, sneering, believing I wanted him back, leaving me crumpled, violated, and utterly powerless. How could he, the man who once claimed to love me, stoop to such a depraved act? Why did he believe I was still that desperate girl, when everything about me screamed independence and strength? Just as I believed I might lose everything, the ballroom doors burst open, and Andrew Blakely strode in, his eyes blazing. He saw the wound on my cheek, the shattered gift, and his once-quiet fury was now a thunderous storm, ready to unleash retribution far beyond anything Ryan could ever imagine.

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.

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 $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.

Rebirth of the Broken Luna: A Second Chance at Luna's Heart

Luna has tried her best to make her forced marriage to Xen work for the sake of their child. But with Riley and Sophia- Xen's ex-girlfriend and her son in the picture. She fights a losing battle. Ollie, Xen's son is neglected by his father for a very long time and he is also suffering from a mysterious sickness that's draining his life force. When his last wish to have his dad come to his 5th birthday party is dashed by his failure to show up, Ollie dies in an accident after seeing his father celebrate Riley's birthday with Sophia and it's displayed on the big advertising boards that fill the city. Ollie dies and Luna follows after, unable to bear the grief, dying in her mate's hands cursing him and begging for a second chance to save her son. Luna gets the opportunity and is woken up in the past, exactly one year to the day Sophia and Riley show up. But this time around, Luna is willing to get rid of everyone and anyone even her mate if he steps in her way to save her son.

Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father

I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch—a titan of industry and my best friend’s father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.

Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell

"Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress. With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap. Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell. On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered. When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling."