He Said He Loved Her, But She Kissed Me

Thirty Days To Marry: The Doctor's Escape

I was Ethan Dejesus’s "glorified roommate" for eight long years. Even though I was a successful doctor, I lived in the guest room of his luxury penthouse and spent my mornings making his coffee like a servant while waiting for a ring that was never coming. The breaking point came when Ethan forced me to give his mistress, Delisa, a medical exam in the VIP wing of my own hospital. He didn't just want to break my heart; he wanted to destroy my professional dignity in front of the woman he was cheating with. During a paparazzi swarm at his estate, a heavy camera lens hit me in the temple, leaving me bleeding on the floor. Ethan didn't even flinch. He stepped over my body to protect Delisa, making sure he looked like a hero for the cameras while I struggled to stand. That night, I overheard him laughing at a bar, telling his friends I was like a "stray dog" that would always crawl back for scraps no matter how much he starved me. When I finally stood up to him, he shoved me out of his SUV onto a dark highway in the middle of a rainstorm and threw my purse into the mud. I walked for miles in the freezing rain, only to get home and find Delisa already moved into the penthouse, sitting at my vanity and wearing my clothes. "You'll be back in a week when the money runs out," he laughed as I packed my only suitcase. "You're a nobody from Queens. You have nothing without me." I looked at the man I had loved for nearly a decade and realized the woman who worshipped him was dead. He had murdered her on that highway, and he didn't even care. I blocked his number, dropped my key card on the floor, and walked out into the night without looking back. I wasn't going to be his "stray dog" anymore. I was heading to a small house in the suburbs to meet Carleton Schmitt—a total stranger I had agreed to marry in a moment of drunken desperation who was now my only way out.

Broken By The Heir, Claimed By Power

I spent two years navigating the stratified air of Spencer Kensington’s world, thinking I was the woman he loved. I even ate instant ramen for months to afford a vintage camera lens for our anniversary. When I got a mysterious text about "Operation Blue Moon," I thought it was our private signal for a proposal. Instead, I walked into a limestone fortress to find the Kensington and Van Der Woodsen Engagement Party in full swing. Spencer wasn't there for a romantic dinner; he was standing under a crystal chandelier, announcing his "business merger" with a blonde heiress. When I confronted him in a service hallway, he didn't apologize. He offered to buy me a brownstone and keep me as his "side project" while his mother, Victoria, watched from the balcony like a queen. "Vanessa is just furniture," he said, his voice full of a terrifying sincerity. "But you're the one I love. I can give you a life of ease." When I refused to be his dirty little secret, the retaliation was instant and brutal. By the next morning, I was fired from my reporting job, my father’s nursing home funding was pulled, and I returned home to find my apartment condemned by the city. My entire life was piled in wet boxes on a rain-soaked sidewalk. I couldn't understand how one family could have the power to erase a person’s existence in a single night. How could the man who kissed me yesterday watch his mother leave me homeless and penniless today? Standing in the rain next to my ruined belongings, a black SUV pulled up and Mayor Julian Sterling stepped out. He didn't offer me pity; he offered me a deal. "The Kensingtons are panicked," he said, his eyes cold and calculating. "And panicked people make mistakes. You have a reason to watch them burn. I want to see what you know." I took his hand, knowing he was just as dangerous as the people I was fighting, but I was done being the victim. This wasn't just a breakup anymore; it was a war.

Sold, Framed, Now She's Free

On my 21st birthday, my fiancé Chandler and my adoptive sister Brenda drugged me and sold my first night at a secret auction. Then they framed me for arson, and I spent the next three years in prison learning how to survive. After my release, I fought in underground clubs, bleeding for the money to buy back my family's brownstone. But Chandler found me, calling me a "common harlot" as he tried to drag me home. He offered me a "last chance" to apologize to Brenda for the crimes she committed. When I refused, he publicly announced the sale of my home. All proceeds would be donated to the "Brenda Richardson Philanthropic Foundation." He didn't just take my money; he took my soul. He took the last tangible piece of my parents, of my identity. Everything was gone. As I collapsed onto the grimy floor, my world shattered, I fumbled for my phone. There was only one name left, one last hope. "Brien," I choked out, my voice broken. "Please. I need your help. Get me out of here."

His Shield, Her Secret Empire

I fell for Kade Livingston, the campus king. To protect his family's reputation, he asked me to be his "shield," making me endure vicious bullying and even a kidnapping as a supposed test of my love. I endured it all, until his fragile stepsister, Dani, stole my most personal work—a photography series honoring my late mother. She didn't just steal it; she twisted my art into a grotesque, pornographic mockery of her memory. When I tried to expose her, Kade destroyed all my evidence. He then had me kidnapped and beaten, leaving me for dead, all to protect his stepsister's crime and hide the twisted nature of their bond. Lying bruised in a hospital bed, I finally understood. He never loved me. I was just a disposable pawn in his family's sick game. My disguise as a plain student, meant to keep me safe, had only made me a target for her jealousy. But they made one fatal mistake. They thought they were destroying Holly Erickson, a quiet, unremarkable girl. They had no idea they were messing with K.B. Barry, the secretly world-famous author with the power to ruin them all. Today, at the photography competition where they plan to celebrate their crime, I will make my first-ever public appearance and show them what happens when you break a queen.

His Orchestrated Love, My Shattered Life

After a brutal assault cost me my fiancé, my childhood friend swooped in to save me. He married me, cherished me, and I fell in love with the perfect life he built. I thought I had finally found my happy ending. Then, pregnant with our child, I overheard him confessing to my half-sister. He had orchestrated the entire assault. He married me just to stay close to her. In the hospital, she staged an attack, claiming I tried to kill her and her unborn baby. My husband shoved me against the wall, roaring at me as he rushed to her side. "I'll kill you for this!" As I lay bleeding on the cold floor, losing my own child, not a single person looked back. I was just a necessary casualty in his game. But I had recorded her gloating confession. I faked my death and fled to my billionaire mother. He would find out the truth, and I would be the ghost that haunted him to his grave.

From Ashes: A Second Chance

I had loved my fiancé, Dominic Watts, since we were children. Our marriage was supposed to be the perfect seal on a merger between our two family empires. In my last life, he stood outside my burning art studio with my stepsister, Julia, and watched me die. I screamed for him, the smoke choking me, my skin searing from the heat. "Dominic, please! Help me!" Julia clung to his arm, her face a picture of false terror. "It's too dangerous! You'll get hurt! We have to go!" And he listened. He looked at me one last time, his eyes filled with a pity that cut deeper than any flame, and then he turned and ran, leaving me to burn. Until I died, I didn't understand. The boy who promised to always protect me had just watched me burn to death. My unconditional love was the price I paid so he could be with my sister. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my bedroom. In one hour, I was due at the family board meeting. This time, I walked straight to the head of the table and said, "I am breaking the engagement."

The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

I was finally brought back to the billionaire Vance estate after years in the grimy foster system, but the luxury Lincoln felt more like a funeral procession. My biological family didn't welcome me with open arms; they looked at me like a stain on a silk shirt. They thought I was a "defective" mute with cognitive delays, a spare part to be traded away. Within hours of my arrival, my father decided to sell me to Julian Thorne, a bitter, paralyzed heir, just to secure a corporate merger. My sister Tiffany treated me like trash, whispering for me to "go back to the gutter" before pouring red wine over my dress in front of Manhattan's elite. When a drunk cousin tried to lay hands on me at the engagement gala, my grandmother didn't protect me-she raised her silver-topped cane to strike my face for "embarrassing the family." They called me a sacrificial lamb, laughing as they signed the prenuptial agreement that stripped me of my freedom. They had no idea I was E-11, the underground hacker-artist the world was obsessed with, or that I had already breached their private servers. I found the hidden medical records-blood types A, A, and B-a biological impossibility that proved my "parents" were harboring a scandal that could ruin them. Why bring me back just to discard me again? And why was Julian Thorne, the man supposedly bound to a wheelchair, secretly running miles at dawn on his private estate? Standing in the middle of the ballroom, I didn't plead for mercy. I used a text-to-speech app to broadcast a cold, synthetic threat: "I have the records, Richard. Do you want me to explain genetics to the press, or should we leave quietly?" With the "paralyzed" billionaire as my unexpected accomplice, I walked out of the Vance house and into a much more dangerous game.

One Night Stand With My Boss

Alcohol and heartbreak are definitely not a good combo.Too bad I learnt that a little too late. I'm Tessa Beckett and I painfully got dumped by my boyfriend of three years.That led me to getting drunk at a bar and having a one-night stand with a stranger.Before he would see me as a slut the next day,I paid him for the sex and deeply insulted his ability to please me. But this stranger turned out to be my new boss!

Too Late For Regret: The Genius Heiress Who Shines

Blinded in a crash, Cary was rejected by every socialite—except Evelina, who married him without hesitation. Three years later, he regained his sight and ended their marriage. "We’ve already lost so many years. I won’t let her waste another one on me." Evelina signed the divorce papers without a word. Everyone mocked her fall—until they discovered that the miracle doctor, jewelry mogul, stock genius, top hacker, and the President's true daughter… were all her. When Cary came crawling back, a ruthless tycoon had him kicked out. "She's my wife now. Get lost."

Heartbreak Billionaire: He Should Never Have Let Go

Sunlit hours found their affection glimmering, while moonlit nights ignited reckless desire. But when Brandon learned his beloved might last only half a year, he coolly handed Millie divorce papers, murmuring, "This is all for appearances; we'll get married again once she's calmed down." Millie, spine straight and cheeks dry, felt her pulse go hollow. The sham split grew permanent; she quietly ended their unborn child and stepped into a new beginning. Brandon unraveled, his car tearing down the street, unwilling to let go of the woman he'd discarded, pleading for her to look back just once.

The Rise Of The Ugly Luna

Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone. Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved. It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years. Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from. Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes. Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with.

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.