Two Days to Escape

My Wife, Her Son, His Lie

The silence in our living room was heavy, broken only by my ragged breathing. On the coffee table, a single photograph lay between us: my wife, Chloe Davis, holding a child, a man I' d never seen before, Alex Reed, his arm possessively around them. The anonymous email was simple: "Everything you believe is a lie." I stared at Chloe, my wife of five years, the celebrity I had helped build, the woman I loved with every fiber of my being, as she calmly confessed. "His name is Alex Reed. And that' s our son, Noah." Their son. The son I was told I could never have. The pain I had carried for us, the infertility I had accepted as my truth, was nothing but a calculated cover story. Her mother, Eleanor, rushed to my side, not to comfort me, but to smooth things over, to sell me on a lifetime of complicity. "Ethan, you know you can' t have children. This has happened. What' s the point of making a scene? Be a father to the boy. It' s a blessing in disguise, really." The sheer audacity, the cold dismissal of my pain and betrayal, left me speechless. Chloe, the woman I thought I knew, looked at me with chilling pragmatism. "It' s the most practical solution, Ethan. We can keep Alex and Noah hidden. This can just be our secret." My entire marriage, a lie. My love, a tool. My supposed brokenness, a convenient cover for her betrayal. The devastation burned away all confusion, leaving behind a stark clarity. "No," I said, quiet but final. Chloe blinked, as if the concept was foreign. "I want a divorce." Then came the storm. Not from Chloe, but from a social media post crafted by Eleanor, turning me into the villain. "Some people can't handle a strong woman. Chloe deserves a man who can give her a real family." My fabricated infertility, their weapon. The woman I sacrificed everything for had joined her mother and her secret family to paint me as the inadequate, abusive monster. They thought I was weak. They were wrong. My fingers, no longer trembling, found my phone. "I need to file for divorce. And I want to be prepared for a fight."

Ava's Echo: A Betrayed Heart Returns

The first thing I felt when I opened my eyes wasn' t relief, but a dull ache in my chest. This wasn't my body, but Ava's. And with it came the ghost of her memory-a life of betrayal, humiliation, and a desperate wish for justice. Just hours ago, she was destroyed in the very home I now found myself in. Downstairs, the low murmur of voices belonged to the perfect, grieving family: Chloe, Ava' s supposed sister, clinging to Mark, Ava' s fiancé, both displaying a tenderness Mark hadn't shown Ava in years. Beside them stood my father, a man of iron will, his hand on Chloe's shoulder, looking at her with a pained affection he never once bestowed upon his own biological daughter. The scene turned sickening when Mark declared his love for Chloe, emphasizing her "softness" that Ava, with her ambition, supposedly lacked. Then came my father' s final hammer blow: "This girl, Chloe, has more grace and kindness in her little finger than you have in your entire body. She is the daughter I always wished I had." Every word was aimed at Ava, shattering her spirit. This was the core of her pain, the reason she gave up. But for me, it was the spark. I smiled, a cold, unwavering smile. "Good," I said, my voice clear and steady. "Then you won\'t mind when I take back everything that is rightfully mine. Every last thing."

The Villainess Who Baked Her Way To Love

A blinding headache kicks off the wildest day of my life. I' m Savannah Vance, a pastry chef, but suddenly I' m a villainess in some cheesy romance novel, hated by everyone, including Dr. Kael Blackwood, the handsome, cold hero. My new 'family,' who apparently swapped me at birth from a wealthy tech mogul father, instantly disowns me. Accusations fly-they parade my presumed low-class origins, and my adoptive mother' s misguided "love potion" gift to "secure a man's interest" only solidifies their disgust. No matter what I do, they just see the conniving gold-digger from the book. My supposed sister, Blair, frames me again and again, turning every family member against me, while Kael watches with chilling disdain. His own family, especially his mom, seems to be the only ones who see my truth. How am I supposed to survive in a world where everyone believes I'm the villain, especially when the hero despises me and my own family actively tries to sabotage me? This isn' t my story, but I' m living it. I will not be this villainess. I' ll use my real skills, my baking talent, and my anonymous blog, "Sugar & Spice," to carve out my own destiny, even if it means fighting alone against a pre-written ending.

Too Late For Her Regret

For 15 years, Lena and I were Apex and Viper, Sentinel Group's best. We moved like ghosts, always got the job done. I thought our bond was iron, that nothing could break what we had. A lifetime together, quiet, away from it all – that was the future I saw. Then Julian Thorne, a tech billionaire's son, walked into our lives. I saw the shift in Lena's eyes, a flicker I hadn't wanted to acknowledge. Her laughter grew too loud, too often with him, and her subtle jabs at me turned sharper, more dismissive. She started calling him Julian, shared operational details she shouldn't have, and openly mocked my ruggedness, insisting Julian preferred 'polish.' My gut twisted when he tossed our custom-made challenge coin in the air – the symbol of our unbroken partnership, given to him like trash. But nothing hit harder than her cold laugh, "A future? With you? Don't be ridiculous, Alex. You think I' d ever be with someone like you?" Twenty years of belief, shattered in an instant. The woman I loved, my partner for fifteen years, saw me as nothing but a grunt, a relic, beneath her ambition. The pain was a physical blow, a cold, hard truth: this wasn't a partnership. To her, it was just a job, and Julian Thorne, a shiny, disposable perk. Watching her laugh with him, the knot in my gut tightened, then snapped. I pulled out my burner phone, the one I hadn't touched in years. "Grandfather," I said, my voice rough, "It's Alex. About that arrangement… is it still on the table?" It was time to leave everything behind, to find a peace she could never offer.

The Unforgiving Snow

The scream died in my throat, a ghost of a sound from a life already lost. My eyes snapped open to weak autumn sunlight filtering through bedroom curtains. Michael, my husband, slept beside me, his breathing even. Down the hall, Lily, my five-year-old, would soon be stirring, ready for cartoons and pancakes. It was a normal morning, but the memories, the ice-cold dread, they weren't a dream. It was a terrifying premonition: a monstrous blizzard, Lily's small, still face, Michael's broken body in the snow. I saw the snarling faces of Frank, Brenda, Billy, and Jimmy, their greedy eyes scanning our home. And then, the ultimate betrayal: Jessie. My adopted daughter, Jessie, siding with them, facilitating their violence, celebrating their victory over our family. They had ransacked our home, murdered my husband and daughter, and left me to die in the freezing snow. My heart hammered with the visceral horror of that nightmare, the profound betrayal burning deeper than any wound. How could the daughter I loved, the one I raised, turn into such a monster and actively choose our destruction? This wasn't just a nightmare; it felt terrifyingly real, a chilling glimpse into an impending doom. "It had all happened. It was all going to happen. Today." A tremor went through me. Today was the day the blizzard warnings began, the day Jessie first whined about wanting to see her "real" family. I was back. Armed with the brutal wisdom of a life I'd already lost, I would rewrite every brutal chapter, protect my family, and ensure those who sought to harm us faced a fate far worse.

The Ghost He Couldn't See

Ethan and I were a medical power couple, brilliant doctors at Mount Sinai West, building a life, a future. My world, however, shattered in a horrific car crash. My head throbbed, my vision blurred, and though my words were clear enough to convey a severe neurological emergency, the man I loved, Dr. Ethan Hayes, rushed past my trauma bay. He called me "dramatic," dismissing my critical state to focus on his stepsister, Brooke, who he believed had a 'shattered leg.' I watched, a helpless ghost, as my body flatlined, the monitor's unbroken tone signaling my death. He still didn't know, too preoccupied with fixing Brooke's "injuries," too blind to her manipulative tears and lies about the accident. The betrayal was colder than death itself. Five years, a future planned, all discarded for a carefully crafted pretense. My heart, or what was left of it, ached with an unbearable truth. The true horror, the one that would forever define his torment, was a secret I carried even into the afterlife: I was pregnant. With our child. The baby he unknowingly condemned with his catastrophic medical negligence. His world was about to unravel – spectacularly, brutally. And I, his silent, invisible companion, would be tethered to him, watching every agonizing moment as his brilliant career, his sanity, and his very soul disintegrated.

The Luna He Lost: Alpha's Endless Regret

Omega Lyra, once betrothed to Alpha Kyle, is forced to sew his new Luna's wedding dress. On the wedding eve, an out-of-control Kyle violates her; the chaos that follows kills the bride, and Lyra is falsely branded a murderer. Kyle binds Lyra as his nominal Luna to torment her-for three years, she endures mockery and isolation, finding solace only in late-night piano playing. His coldness and closeness to the late Luna's sister Rhea shatter her hope. Humiliated at Kyle's birthday banquet, Lyra demands to end their bond. Fleeing, she awakens hidden Alpha powers but is attacked by rogues-Beta Darren, who secretly cares for her, saves her. Now, Lyra must evade Kyle's family, find her lost sister, and fight for a place in the wolf world, turning her painful escape into a journey of redemption.

The Forgotten Mother's Vow: Taking Back What's Hers

Isabelle's love for Kolton held flawless for fifteen years-until the day she delivered their children and slipped into a coma. He leaned to her ear and whispered, "Don't wake up. You're worthless to me now." The twins later clutched another woman's hand and chirped, "Mommy," splintering Isabelle's heart. She woke, filed for divorce, and disappeared. Only then did Kolton notice her fingerprints on every habit. They met again: she emerged as the lead medical specialist, radiant and unmoved. But at her engagement gala, she leapt into a tycoon's arms. Jealous, he crushed a glass, blood wetting his palm. He believed as soon as he made a move, Isabelle would return to him. After all, she had loved him deeply.

The Unwanted Bride Becomes The City's Queen

I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella. Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark. But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved. Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies. When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel. While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest. The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella. He ordered my father to punish me. I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth. That night, the love in my heart finally died. On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape—the only proof that I was Seven. Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney. By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return.

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.

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.

Getting Back My Secret Luna

Allison lost the baby. She had loved Alpha Lucian for nine long years. To marry him,she fast-tracked her graduation,and for two years,she endured  his  coldness,his absences,and his indifference in silence. The day she miscarried,all she wanted was a sliver of comfort. Instead,he hung up on her. The next second she saw him,he was on national television-holding a funeral for his ex-girlfriend's dog. That was the moment Allison realized she had never been a wife in his eyes-only a pawn in their twisted game. Her heart shattered. She asked for a divorce. After walking away from her loveless marriage,Allison buried herself in work. Once mocked and looked down on,she rose like a phoenix-building an empire worth billions. But the divorce papers never came. And the man who had once treated her like a stranger? He started showing up everywhere-refusing to let go. After the charity gala,Allison was heading to her car when the once cold and untouchable Alpha suddenly cornered her against the wall,his eyes burning with desperation.  "Baby,come home with me... please." Allison only smiled. "Alpha Lucian ,don't call me that. We're already divorced. I'm single now."