My Story, My Proof

The Mute Wife's Revenge: Silent No More

I spent three years as the silent architect of the Maynard family’s fortune, bound by an iron-clad NDA that turned me into a ghost. As Calhoun’s wife, I was the "silent asset," the one who saved their empire from the shadows while they took the bows and the credit. The betrayal started in a boardroom when my life's work was publicly handed to my incompetent brother-in-law, Conrad. But the real knife came later that night at the victory gala. I caught Calhoun in a VIP lounge, whispering promises to his sister-in-law, Bianca, as they plotted to strip me of my voting shares. When I tried to walk away, the Maynards struck. Bianca faked a pregnancy and threw herself in front of a car, framing me for attempted murder. My father-in-law gave me a brutal choice: rot in prison for fifteen years or sign an annulment forfeiting my inheritance, my identity, and my mother’s last sapphire necklace. They threw me out into a midnight storm with nothing but a trash bag of old rags. I knelt in the mud, watching the gates of the estate slam shut, realizing my entire marriage had been a transaction and I was finally out of stock. How could they steal my work, my name, and the only memory of my mother I had left? As I collapsed on the side of a dark road, a black Rolls Royce cut through the rain. Julian Montgomery, the Maynards’ most ruthless rival, stepped out and draped his cashmere coat over my shivering shoulders. He looked at me not with pity, but with predatory interest. I looked back and whispered the only thing that mattered. "Leverage."

The Prenup: My Billion Dollar Weapon

My husband, the man I saved from a suicide attempt and built an empire for, was forcing me to kneel on frozen peas. My crime? A splash of cream in my coffee. This was all for his new "soulmate," a vegan influencer named Kassie, who had moved into our home and declared war on all animal products. The cruelty escalated. He kidnapped my ailing father, torturing him over his hobby of building birdhouses, then used my father' s life to blackmail me into silence. Then, at a gala, he left me for dead in the path of a raging bear to save Kassie. As he turned his back, leaving me to be mauled, I realized the man I loved was gone, replaced by a monster. But I survived, saved by a mysterious stranger. And as I healed, I remembered the one weapon he'd forgotten: the ironclad prenup that gave me a controlling interest in his billion-dollar company. He thought he had broken me, but he had just given me the means to burn his empire to the ground.

The Heiress's Heart, Reclaimed By Love

I am the sole heiress to a Texas oil empire. To protect me, my father adopted seven boys who were meant to be my future, and I was in love with their leader, Jax, my intended fiancé. But it was all a lie. I overheard them confess they were only playing along to secure my fortune for Daisy-Mae, the girl Jax truly loved. The humiliation was relentless. Jax sabotaged my saddle, breaking my leg. He publicly shamed me at an auction, buying a million-dollar necklace for her after freezing my funds. The final blow came at my birthday party, where a private video of me crying over him was broadcast to hundreds of guests. He did it all for her. Even when I exposed Daisy-Mae's plot, he confessed to her crimes to protect her, then offered to marry me as a bribe to buy my silence. He thought he still had power over me. But in front of everyone, I looked him in the eye and delivered the killing blow. "I stopped loving you a long time ago, Jax." Then I turned to the one man who had defended me, Sterling Prescott, and announced, "The man I'm going to marry is him."

Love as a Weapon

After my family's business collapsed, I married my first love's older brother. On the wedding day, even though Jase Mitchell begged me with tears, I never looked back. Four years later, my husband Kade Mitchell passed away from illness, and his stepmother Katie Fuller drove me and my son out of the Mitchell family. Desperate and with nowhere to turn, I knocked on Jase's door. His tone was playful and teasing. "What brings you here, sister-in-law?" I hid my emotions and stepped closer. This time, I would make Katie's son return the stolen inheritance with his own hands.

The Wife Who Erased Us

My life was simple, if a little messy, running a tech repair shop, but I had everything that mattered: my wife, Olivia, and our five-year-old son, Leo. Then, Olivia left for her sister' s funeral, promising to return. She didn' t. I later found her living a new, lavish life, engaged to her dead sister' s wealthy fiancé. When I confronted her, begging for answers, her bodyguards brutally beat me. In the chaos, Leo darted into the street and was struck by a car. He died in my arms in the pouring rain, while Olivia watched, emotionless. "He was a mistake," she said, her voice like ice, offering me a paltry sum to disappear. Daniel Thorne, her fiancé, then stabbed me, leaving me for dead beside my son' s body. As darkness consumed me, I felt nothing but utter despair and a burning hatred for the woman I had once loved. But then, my eyes opened. I was in my own bed, in our small apartment. And from the other side of the room, I heard a small cough. Leo was playing with his blocks, alive and well. Olivia walked in, suitcase in hand, ready to leave for that funeral. I had been given a second chance, a do-over. This time, Olivia Reed would pay.

Unwanted Wife, Unstoppable Woman

For three years, my marriage to Liam Hayes was a meticulously spun fairytale, built on our family' s business deal and his seemingly perfect devotion. Then, on our third anniversary, Chloe Davis, his childhood sweetheart, messaged him, shattering the fragile illusion. Liam publicly abandoned me, leaving me alone at a gala to chase after a woman who later accused me of assault, an incident he believed without question. The man I loved, the one who whispered sweet nothings, openly dismissed me as merely "a means to an end" for his company and public image. I found myself heartbroken and pregnant, forced into an unimaginable choice because of his callous betrayal. He dismissed my pain, my very existence, all while protecting Chloe and his perfect public facade. When I was brutally attacked by his enemy, his primary concern wasn't my well-being, but how my hospitalization might inconvenience his carefully constructed life and reputation. His words, "She's resilient. She'll recover. And then we can move forward. But for now, I have to play the part of the concerned husband," echoed in the sterile hospital room-a final, gut-wrenching confirmation of my insignificance to him. How could he be so blind, so utterly devoid of empathy for the woman who bore his secret child? The rage that ignited within me was a revelation, burning away the last vestiges of my love and despair. I wouldn't just leave; I would erase him from my life, starting with a one-way ticket to London and a silent promise of reclamation.

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.

Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback

Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic. Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold. "Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don’t have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'" The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip. Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child. But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall—the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame. "I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done." I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I’m not just leaving him; I’m taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood—the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.

She Took The House, The Car, And My Heart

After two years of marriage, Kristian dropped a bombshell. "She's back. Let's get divorced. Name your price." Freya didn't argue. She just smiled and made her demands. "I want your most expensive supercar." "Okay." "The villa on the outskirts." "Sure." "And half of the billions we made together." Kristian froze. "Come again?" He thought she was ordinary-but Freya was the genius behind their fortune. And now that she'd gone, he'd do anything to win her back.

My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret

My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine. Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family. To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset. They both thought I was a broken doll they could control. I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice. She sang it, and now her career is over. Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground.

THE LYCAN KING'S TREASURED LUNA

Narine never expected to survive. Not after what was done to her body, mind, and soul. But fate had other plans. Rescued by Supreme Alpha Sargis, the kingdom's most feared ruler, she finds herself under the protection of a man she doesn't know... and a bond she doesn't understand. Sargis is no stranger to sacrifice. Ruthless, ambitious, and loyal to the sacred matebond, he's spent years searching for the soul fate promised him, never imagining she would come to him broken, on the brink of death, and afraid of her own shadow. He never meant to fall for her... but he does. Hard and fast. And he'll burn the world before letting anyone hurt her again. What begins in silence between two fractured souls slowly grows into something intimate and real. But healing is never linear. With the court whispering, the past clawing at their heels, and the future hanging by a thread, their bond is tested again and again. Because falling in love is one thing. Surviving it? That's a war of its own. Narine must decide, can she survive being loved by a man who burns like fire, when all she's ever known is how not to feel? Will she shrink for the sake of peace, or rise as Queen for the sake of his soul? For readers who believe even the most fractured souls can be whole again, and that true love doesn't save you. It stands beside you while you save yourself.

The Surgeon's Vow: Healing My Billionaire Husband

I sat in the gray, airless room of the New York State Department of Corrections, my knuckles white as the Warden delivered the news. "Parole denied." My father, Howard Sterling, had forged new evidence of financial crimes to keep me behind bars. He walked into the room, smelling of expensive cologne, and tossed a black folder onto the steel table. It was a marriage contract for Lucas Kensington, a billionaire currently lying in a vegetative state in the ICU. "Sign it. You walk out today." I laughed at the idea of being sold to a "corpse" until Howard slid a grainy photo toward me. It showed a toddler with a crescent-moon birthmark—the son Howard told me had died in an incubator five years ago. He smiled and told me the boy's safety depended entirely on my cooperation. I was thrust into the Kensington estate, where the family treated me like a "drowned rat." They dressed me in mothball-scented rags and mocked my status, unaware that I was monitoring their every move. I watched the cousin, Julian, openly waiting for Lucas to die to inherit the empire, while the doctors prepared to sign the death certificate. I didn't understand why my father would lie about my son’s death for years, or what kind of monsters would use a child as a bargaining chip. The injustice of it burned in my chest as I realized I was just a pawn in a game of old money and blood. As the monitors began to flatline and the family started to celebrate their inheritance, I locked the door and reached into the hem of my dress. I pulled out the sharpened silver wires I’d fashioned in the prison workshop. They thought they bought a submissive convict, but they actually invited "The Saint"—the world’s most dangerous underground surgeon—into their home. "Wake up, Lucas. You owe me a life." I wasn't there to be a bride; I was there to wake the dead and burn their empire to the ground.