The Accidental Husband

The Neglected Wife's Secret: Genius Designer Aria

I sat in the sterile silence of a VIP fertility clinic, clutching my Chanel purse and praying for good news after three years of trying for a baby. But as the doctor told me my body was "pristine," my phone lit up with a Page Six headline: "Garold Chandler Spotted with Mystery Woman at OB-GYN—Heir on the Way?" The "mystery woman" was Jenilee Shaw, and the man in the charcoal suit was my husband. That night, I waited up to show him the news, but he didn't even offer an apology. When I asked if he ever wanted children, he pried my hands off him and looked at me with cold, dead eyes. "Not with you," he said, before walking away to take a shower. I packed my bags and left a divorce agreement on his nightstand, but Garold wasn't about to let his "perfect" wife go that easily. He shredded the papers and froze every one of my credit cards, leaving me stranded with forty dollars and a crumbling family estate. He even mocked me when I accidentally texted him for a loan, telling me to come home and beg for my allowance like a child. He thought he had me cornered, but he forgot one thing: I wasn't just his trophy wife. Years ago, I was "Aria," the anonymous design genius the fashion world had been hunting for. I didn't need his money—I had a secret offshore account and a lead designer job at his biggest rival. As I walked into Twelve Bridges for my first day, I ran into his mistress and smiled. "Keep him," I told her. "I'm bored of the three-minute disappointments."

A Mother's Fury Unleashed

On my daughter Lily' s sixth birthday, her only wish was to go to the amusement park with her dad. But my husband, Liam, sent tickets instead of showing up, only for us to find the park closed for a private event. That event was for Tiffany, Liam' s ex-girlfriend. He was there, kissing her, their arms wrapped around each other. The entire park, a thousand happy sounds, was just for her. Then, Lily, pure and innocent, ran through a gap in the fence, calling for her dad. Liam' s face twisted into rage, and he kicked our six-year-old daughter to the ground. He snarled at me, blaming me for Tiffany' s miscarriage, and accused me of bringing Lily to upset her. He strapped our crying daughter onto the tallest ride, despite her tiny size, and instructed the operators not to stop it. He and Tiffany walked away, their laughter echoing, as Lily' s screams faded against the roar of the machine. I smashed the control room window, bleeding, and hit the emergency stop, but it was too late. Lily' s broken body fell into my arms, splattered with blood. At the hospital, Mark, Liam' s assistant, blocked our way, saying no Miller family members were allowed. Liam had transferred every doctor in the city to Tiffany' s luxury hotel. Then, a delivery guy arrived, sent by Liam, with band-aids. "Bleeding isn' t dying," he' d said. My hope turned to ice. Why was I, the one who rebuilt his company and bore his child, reduced to begging for my dying daughter's access to medical care, while he celebrated with the woman who betrayed him and potentially ruined his family? How could he deny Lily' s death, blaming me for her existence, even as he subjected me to physical and emotional torture. With Lily' s cold body in my arms, and my father-in-law weeping beside me, I calmly told Liam on the phone, "You killed my child. I want a divorce." My war had just begun.

Love's Betrayal, Revenge's Spark

I was supposed to be happy. Three years of marriage, a baby due in a month, and a husband everyone said adored me. Liam was my childhood friend, my rock, my supposed happy ending. But that illusion shattered in a hospital parking lot when I overheard Liam confess to orchestrating my mother's car accident-a murder meant to secure her heart for my dying stepsister, Chloe. He then married me to keep me out of the way, a tool in his twisted obsession. The truth was a physical blow. My mother, murdered. My proposed husband, a silent accomplice at her funeral, was just a performer in a long charade. Liam' s meticulous care for Chloe, his obsession with her "pure" style, all those signs I' d dismissed as overflow of love, screamed at me now. Then Chloe, after feigning pregnancy due to her infertility, deliberately threw herself down the stairs. Liam, convicting me on the spot, burned my hand, permanently crippling me, while my own father watched him. He funded my revenge, transferring his fortune to me as an apology. My heart was ripped apart by their betrayal. I couldn't comprehend how a man I loved could devise such a monstrous plan, making me a mere pawn in his sick game. How could I have been so blind? With unwavering resolve, I decided to fight back. I had my own secret plans, a quiet escape route, and a final, shocking gift for Liam, a macabre reminder of his crimes. He thought he had broken me, but he had only forged a weapon.

Stolen Code, Broken Heart, Fierce Comeback

The flickering TV in my dingy motel room was the only light, illuminating the peeling wallpaper. On screen, Ethan Vance, my ex-fiancé, smiled his perfect, camera-ready smile, touting 'EvolveAI' and his "future-defining" Prometheus algorithm. Reporters swarmed him; he was the king of Silicon Valley, the brilliant mind behind the world' s most advanced AI. My world. My code. My future. He had stolen it all. Everything. I remembered the day he left, his eyes cold and empty, my three years of coding on a hard drive in his bag, a venomous "You were always just… holding me back." He didn't just take the code; he took my savings, my reputation, blacklisting me from an industry I helped build, all while Bethany Cole, my best friend, stood arm-in-arm with him, eyes gleaming with triumph. They left me with nothing but eviction notices, forcing me to sell everything I owned, living as a ghost under pseudonyms, cleaning up security flaws for companies that would never hire Scarlett Hayes. The pain of that betrayal was a constant, suffocating darkness, a deep pit I couldn' t climb out of, trapped by unseen enemies and their whispers of my failure. But watching him on that screen, basking in my stolen glory, a cold, sharp rage began to burn through the despair. In that cheap motel, I swore a vow: I would get justice, I would take back what was mine, and he would not build his empire on my ruins. My chance came weeks later: a vulnerability in his IPO network led me to a familiar digital signature-a back door I'd built into 'Prometheus,' a failsafe only I knew. He was arrogant, so certain he' d erased me he never looked for the ghost I' d left behind. He was on the verge of becoming a billionaire. And I had the key to his kingdom. A slow smile spread across my face. The game wasn't over. It had just begun. I wasn't going to be a victim. I was the storm he never saw coming. I would let him climb to the peak of his triumph. And then, I would burn it all to the ground.

The Comatose Heir's Unwanted Wife

The humid Southern air always brought back the dread. Today was the day-the day the two proposals would arrive, sealing my fate. My sister, Sabrina, burst in, her eyes manic, declaring she' d marry Brian Hughes, the charming mechanic, and I would marry Andrew Lester, the comatose heir. This wasn't how it happened before. In my first life, Sabrina scheme her way into marrying Andrew, condemning me to Brian' s terrifying abuse – the beatings, the broken bones, the eventual fire she set to kill me because she thought my brokenness was a form of happiness. Now, reincarnated, she remembers only Brian' s public devotion, oblivious to the monster beneath. She wanted my nightmare. As a wave of dizzying relief washed over me, I realized… my tormentor, the man who destroyed me, was her desperate prize. My mother, always favoring Sabrina, quickly agreed. They thought they were pushing me into a living widowhood, a quiet misery. They had no idea they were finally setting me free.

The Prenup's Revenge

I was America' s Grammy-winning country star, married to the nation' s pop sweetheart, Nicole. Our life was a picture of musical royalty, until a trashy music blog screamed about my wife' s new video. "Nicole Anderson and Jayden Hughes: More Than Just Acting?" She came to me sobbing, confessing a "one-time mistake" with the bad-boy rapper. She poured millions into a new record label, publicly funding my next album as a grand gesture of devotion. I believed her, held her, and told myself she was my perfect muse. Then, one quiet Tuesday, using her laptop, I found a password-protected folder labeled "PROJECT N&J." On a whim, I typed "Jayden." Access granted. Two hundred explicit videos revealed a timeline spanning months. Her voice, clear and triumphant in the most recent one, shattered my world: "Ethan' s too trusting… he thinks I' m his perfect little country muse." Jayden' s smug reply: "And what about this baby? You sure it' s gonna pass for his?" The air left my lungs. My wife, the woman the world adored, was a calculated monster carrying another man' s child, planning to use my name and money to escape a prenup. Every award, every photo in our mansion, felt like a prop in her elaborate con. The betrayal was a physical ache, a cold, hard certainty. How could I have been such a fool? But as disgust rose in my throat, a new feeling emerged: not despair, but a quiet, chilling clarity. I found my prenup, snapped a picture of the infidelity clause, and sent it to my lawyer. It was time for the truth to be the truth.

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."

Billionaire Boss? Nah, Just A Possessive Husband!

I just got my billionaire husband to sign our divorce papers. He thinks it's another business document. Our marriage was a business transaction. I was his secretary by day, his invisible wife by night. He got a CEO title and a rebellion against his mother; I got the money to save mine. The only rule? Don't fall in love. I broke it. He didn't. So I'm cashing out. Thirty days from now, I'm gone. But now he's noticing me. Touching me. Claiming me. The same man who flaunts his mistresses is suddenly burning down a nightclub because another man insulted me. He says he'll never let me go. But he has no idea I'm already halfway out the door. How far will a billionaire go to keep a wife he never wanted until she tried to leave?

Mr. CEO, Your Wife Shocks the World

"I will marry you. Wait for me!" Mabel woke up. She had that dream again. In her dream, a man said he would marry her. Just a dream. Five years ago, she was set up by her stepsister and became pregnant out of wedlock. She lost everything, including her baby. Five years later, she was forced to marry her stepsister's fiance, Jayden, who was sick and going to pass away. Having no choice, Mabel decided to marry Jayden, not expecting that Jayden was the man...

A Divorce He Regrets

The day Raina gave birth should have been the happiest of her life. Instead, it became her worst nightmare. Moments after delivering their twins, Alexander shattered her heart-divorcing her and forcing her to sign away custody of their son, Liam. With nothing but betrayal and heartbreak to her name, Raina disappeared, raising their daughter, Ava, on her own.Years later, fate comes knocking when Liam falls gravely ill. Desperate to save his son, Alexander is forced to seek out the one person he once cast aside. Alexander finds himself face to face with the woman he underestimated, pleading for a second chance-not just for himself, but for their son. But Raina is no longer the same broken woman who once loved him.No longer the woman he left behind. She has carved out a new life-one built on strength, wealth, and a long-buried legacy she expected to uncover.Raina has spent years learning to live without him.The question is... Will she risk reopening old wounds to save the son she never got to love? or has Alexander lost her forever?

Diamond In Disguise: Now Watch Me Shine

Elena, once a pampered heiress, suddenly lost everything when the real daughter framed her, her fiancé ridiculed her, and her adoptive parents threw her out. They all wanted to see her fall. But Elena unveiled her true identity: the heiress of a massive fortune, famed hacker, top jewelry designer, secret author, and gifted doctor. Horrified by her glorious comeback, her adoptive parents demanded half her newfound wealth. Elena exposed their cruelty and refused. Her ex pleaded for a second chance, but she scoffed, "Do you think you deserve it?" Then a powerful magnate gently proposed, "Marry me?"

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.