The Immortal's Betrayal: A Forest Spirit's Fury

Contract With A Monster: The Heiress's Revenge

It was my birthday, but instead of celebrating, I was bleeding on the floor of my own bedroom. My sister Serena had just smashed a champagne bottle over my legs, her eyes filled with a dark madness because our father allowed me to wear the family diamonds. To escape her, I bolted into a pitch-black guest suite, only to be grabbed by a man who felt like a wall of solid muscle. He was drugged, unstable, and pinned me against the wall, his teeth sinking into my neck in a primal claim that left a permanent mark. I managed to flee, but the nightmare was just beginning. My father didn't care about my injuries; he only cared that I had "insulted" the man in that room—Delos French, the most powerful CEO in New York. He threatened to stop paying for my mother’s critical care facility unless I went to Delos and begged for his forgiveness. My brother Julian was even worse, intentionally pouring scalding coffee over my bandaged wounds just to see me flinch. They forced me into a revealing gold dress, treating me like a high-priced commodity to be sold to the highest bidder to save their failing company. I didn't understand how the people who were supposed to love me could be more predatory than the monster in the dark. I had spent my life fixing their scandals, yet they were ready to throw me to the wolves the moment I became useful as a pawn. But when I stood before Delos French at his gala, he didn't see a trophy. He recognized my scent, my touch, and the fire in my eyes. He trapped me in his private lounge, kneeling to clean the blood from my injured feet. "Marry me," he whispered, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "And I will give you the power to burn your family to the ground." I looked into the eyes of the man who had hunted me and realized he was the only one offering me a weapon to destroy the people who had broken me. "Okay," I whispered.

The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband

The rain in Detroit was slick with grime when my family finally came to fetch me. They didn't want a reunion; they wanted a sacrificial lamb to marry into the Kaufman empire to save their failing business. I thought I was just being sold off, but the limo ride ended under a dark overpass where six hired thugs were waiting with chains. My own sister had ordered them to "break my spirit" so I’d be a shaking, pathetic mess by the time I reached the altar. They called me "Detroit trash" and sprayed air freshener when I sat on their leather seats. My stepmother wanted a video of me begging for my life, and my father was ready to trade me like a used car to a man everyone called a "vegetable." They expected a submissive country girl, unaware that I was a high-level "cleaner" who could snap a radius bone before they could even scream. When I finally reached the Kaufman estate, I found my fiancé, Barron, slumped in a wheelchair, drooling and silent. But as soon as the doors closed, the "invalid" grabbed my wrist with a grip of iron and whispered a command that changed everything. I didn't understand why my own blood was so desperate to see me destroyed. What had I ever done to deserve a hit squad and a forced marriage to a man they thought was a corpse? But Barron isn't a vegetable, and I'm not a victim. We just touched down at the Moon family gala in a matte-black helicopter, and as the doors slide open, the "broken" bride is about to show them exactly what happens when you throw away the wrong daughter. "If we're going to crash a party," Barron whispered, his eyes burning with lethal clarity, "we should make an entrance."

The Rejected Omega Is Actually The White Wolf

I jumped into the freezing Hudson River. Not to kill myself, but to save the only thing I had left—my father's Medal of Valor, which Krystal had thrown into the water like a stick for a dog. I clawed my way up the muddy bank, lungs burning, shivering violently. I looked up at the villa balcony, hoping my Fated Mate, Jaxon, would be looking for me. He wasn't. He was wrapping his arms around Krystal, watching the artificial meteor shower he had arranged just for her. "Anything for you, my love," he said, completely forgetting I was drowning in the dark below. For three years, I believed I had "Wolf Sickness." I took the pills he sent, grateful for his care. But the pills were poison. Wolfsbane. Designed to keep me weak, docile, and unable to shift, just so he could replace me with a more powerful Luna. He called me a liability. He watched his mistress run me over with her Porsche, ordered his guards to silence me, and let her dogs tear my skin. Now, clutching the cold medal, the final thread of our bond snapped. I didn't go back to the pack house. I dragged my broken body to the airport and sent one final text. "I, Alina Phillips, reject you, Jaxon Francis." I mailed him the medical report proving he had been poisoning his own mate, and then I disappeared. By the time he realizes what he's done, the Alina he knew will be dead.

Shattered Vows: The Mafia Heiress's Ruthless Comeback

I was just the decoration at the gala, the dutiful wife of Chicago's Underboss, Dante Moretti. Then my phone buzzed with a photo of his hand on another woman's thigh, taken inside the venue just minutes ago. I finally snapped, leaking the photo to the press to shame him. Dante dragged me home, pinned me to the sofa, and carved a thin line into my collarbone with a switchblade. "You don't get to leave until I say you're done," he warned. But the real devastation came later. An anonymous video file revealed the truth about my mother's "suicide" ten years ago. She didn't jump. My sister, Sofia, pushed her. And Dante? He didn't marry me for power. He brokered a deal with my father to cover up the murder and took me as hush money. I crashed Sofia's birthday party to expose them, but my father slapped me in front of everyone. Dante grabbed my fresh wound and forced me to my knees. "Apologize to your sister," he threatened, "or I bulldoze your mother's grave right now." I swallowed my pride, bowed my head, and apologized. But Sofia just laughed, pulled out a detonator, and pressed the button anyway. "Oops," she giggled as the explosion rocked the ground. "Happy birthday to me." Watching the smoke rise from my mother's destroyed mausoleum, the old Elena died. I vanished into the night, leaving behind signed divorce papers and my bloodied dress. When Dante finally tracked me down, I wasn't hiding in fear. I was standing next to his mortal enemy, Luca Rossi, wearing a massive diamond ring. I handed Dante a cream-colored envelope. "What is this?" he asked, his hands trembling. "An invitation," I said, my voice ice-cold. "To the wedding of Don Luca Rossi and Elena Vitiello."

My Dead Husband Returned With Another Woman

Three years after I buried an empty casket for my husband, I found him alive in a grocery store parking lot. He was rubbing a stranger's pregnant belly, smiling a soft smile I had never seen in our years of marriage. My husband, the ruthless Don of Chicago, had become "Arthur," a gentle man with no memory of the empire he ruled or the wife he left behind. To protect his happiness, I swallowed my agony and lied. "I am his cousin," I told his pregnant fiancée, Mia. I brought them home to his estate, enduring the torture of watching him give her the tenderness that used to belong to me. But my mercy was rewarded with cruelty. Dante looked at me with cold, unfamiliar eyes and slapped divorce papers onto the table. "Sign them," he demanded, his voice devoid of emotion. "I want to marry Mia before the baby comes. I want a fresh start." He didn't know I was dying of a heart defect caused by the stress of grieving him. He didn't know I stalled for two weeks not for money, but because I wanted to be buried with his name. I died the morning the deadline arrived, taking the secret of my love to the grave. Ironically, that very night, a bullet grazed his temple during an ambush, unlocking the memories he had lost. He remembered the peach orchard. He remembered our blood oath. He remembered that I was his soulmate. He ran to my brother’s gates, screaming my name, blood pouring down his face, desperate to beg for forgiveness. But my brother just stood there, blocking the entrance to the cemetery with a cruel smile. "She waited for you every single day," he spat. "And you killed her."

His Manipulation, Her Undoing, His End

My fiancé thought he was manipulating a naive heiress, unaware I had video proof of him plotting to commit me to an asylum. He planned to steal my inheritance with my cousin, but tonight, I' m not signing a marriage license. I' m signing his death warrant. For years, I played the role of the docile, grateful orphan while Holden and Dianne mocked me behind my back. They called me mentally incompetent, laughing as they planned to strip me of my father' s legacy and lock me away. I watched them parade around my birthday gala, smug in their victory, treating me like a fragile doll on the verge of a breakdown. They expected tears. They expected submission. Instead, they got a cold-blooded execution. In front of the entire New York elite, I didn't hand my voting rights to the golden boy who promised to love me. I walked past him and handed the charter to the one man the entire family feared. Hazen Ingram. The scarred, silent "monster" of the dynasty. As Holden screamed and was dragged away by security, I realized something terrifyingly beautiful. I didn't just choose revenge. I chose the only man who ever truly protected me.

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."

Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises

My husband, Ethan Vance, made me his trophy wife. My best friend, Susanna Thorne, helped me pick out my wedding dress. Together, they made me a fool. For three years, I was Mrs. Ethan Vance, a decorative silence in his billion-dollar world, living a quiet routine until a forgotten phone charger led me to his office. The low, feminine laugh from behind his door was a gut-punch; inside, I found Ethan and Susanna, my "best friend" and his CMO, tangled on his sofa, his only reaction irritation. My divorce declaration brought immediate scorn and threats. I was fired, my accounts frozen, and publicly smeared as an unstable gold-digger. Even my own family disowned me for my last cent, only for me to be framed for assault and served a restraining order. Broke, injured, and utterly demonized, they believed I was broken, too ashamed to fight. But their audacious betrayal and relentless cruelty only forged a cold, unyielding resolve. Slumped alone, a restraining order in hand, I remembered my hidden journal: a log of Ethan's insider trading secrets. They wanted a monster? I would show them one.

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."

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."

Seven Years A Fool, One Day A Queen

Everyone knew Kristine loved Colton. Still, his heart clung to a woman overseas-someone he spent most days with, now pregnant with his baby-and Kristine still asked him to marry her. On their registration day, however, he never came; his "true love" had flown back. Seven years of loyalty later, Kristine walked away, blocked him, and left his city. Colton didn't blink-until he saw her at the courthouse, arm-in-arm with another man, and the proud CEO went pale. He went after her, desperation overtaking him. "I'm sorry. Please give me another chance." She snapped, "Could you stop? I'm already married."

Treasured Beyond Measure: Three Brothers, One Queen

From childhood, Stephanie knew she was not her parents' real daughter, but out of gratitude, she turned their business into a powerhouse. Once the true daughter came back, Stephanie was cast out-only to be embraced by an even more powerful birth family, adored by three influential brothers. The second ruled the battlefield. "Stephanie's sweet and innocent; she would never commit such crimes. That name on the wanted list is just a coincidence." And the youngest controlled the markets. "Anyone who dares bully my sister will lose my investment." Her former family begged for forgiveness-even on TV. Stephanie stood firm. When the richest man proposed, she became the woman everyone envied. The eldest ran the boardroom. "Cancel the meeting. I need to set up the art exhibition for my sister!" The town was turned upside down.