The Assistant's Awakening

Divorcing The CEO: I'll Take Your Empire

I spent three years being the perfect wife to tech mogul Cash Ferguson, a forensic accountant playing the role of a low-risk asset to stabilize his public image. My world shattered when I saw a live CNBC broadcast from Sundance showing Cash tenderly hoisting a two-year-old boy onto his hip—a secret son born to a socialite mistress while he was supposedly at a business roadshow. When I confronted him with divorce papers, Cash didn't apologize; he laughed, calling me a "liability" and weaponizing my mother’s history of mental illness to claim I was genetically unfit to carry his heir. He didn't just reject the split; he locked the penthouse elevator and froze every one of my accounts, reclassifying me from a wife to a piece of disputed company property. "You came from nothing, Isidora," he sneered, tossing a credit card at me like a leash. "Stop being dramatic. I can afford a pet, but don't think you can survive a day in the real world without my name." The betrayal turned lethal when I discovered Cash had tracked down my mother’s stolen emerald brooch—my only connection to my past—and bought it as a gift for his mistress. He was using my trauma and my heritage to decorate the woman who had replaced me in his secret life. I realized then that Cash had made a fatal accounting error: he forgot that I was the one who built his shadow accounts and knew exactly where the fraud was buried. He wanted to treat our marriage like a hostile takeover, so I decided to give him a market correction he would never forget. I escaped down forty flights of stairs with nothing but a burner laptop and a plan to burn his empire to the ground. If he wanted to play dirty, I’d show him what happens when a forensic accountant initiates a liquidation protocol. I’m not just leaving; I’m going to make him crawl.

Sold for a Fake: The Alpha's Lost True Mate

On our fifth anniversary, my husband, Alpha Ethan, didn't give me a gift. Instead, he watched as his "invalid" mistress, Ilene, poured a tureen of boiling soup laced with Wolfsbane directly onto my chest. As the poison ate through my skin and I screamed in agony, Ilene clutched her heart and faked a panic attack, claiming my noise was hurting her. Ethan didn't call a doctor for me. His eyes glowed amber with power, and he turned his Alpha Command on his dying mate. "Stay down!" He forced me to lie paralyzed in my own melting flesh, unable to move or whimper, just so my screams wouldn't disturb the woman who had poisoned me. He scooped her up and walked away, leaving me on the restaurant floor. That night, the bond in my chest finally snapped. I didn't argue. I didn't fight. I simply burned every photo of us, masked my scent, and vanished into the night. It took Ethan two years to discover the truth. Ilene wasn't a fragile victim. She had been taking suppressants for years, hiding a healthy wolf while draining his bank accounts and laughing at his guilt. He slaughtered her in a rage and spent his fortune searching the globe for me, desperate to beg for forgiveness. But he was too late. He finally found me on the cover of an international art magazine. I wasn't the weak, wolf-less Omega anymore. I stood tall, glowing with the power of the legendary White Wolf. And the man standing next to me, with his hand possessively claiming my waist, wasn't him. It was the Lycan King.

My Alpha's Mistress, My Son's Unmarked Grave

On the fourth anniversary of my son's death, I went to the Pack Archives to perform a soul-soothing ritual for his spirit. But the records showed a truth I couldn't comprehend. My mate, Alpha Damien, had another child—a secret son with the she-wolf he'd sworn was just a crazed stalker. He lied through our sacred mind-link, claiming a pack emergency, but I found them at a secret manor, laughing. He, his mistress, and their boy—a perfect, happy family. Hiding in my own garage, I overheard the conversation that shattered my world. My son didn't just slip and fall into the river. He ran in terror, scared by the sound of their wild, careless mating nearby. Their affair killed my baby. As this horror crashed down on me, our mate bond, meant for love, became a tool of torture. It forced me to feel every second of his pleasure as he took her again, right there in the car, just feet from where I hid. He and his mother then framed me for abuse, had my son’s ashes dug up and flushed down a sewer, and beat me with a silver whip before leaving me for dead with a pack of feral Rogues. But I survived. And I made a choice. I wouldn’t seek revenge. I would seek oblivion. I found a pack that practiced forbidden magic, a ritual that could wipe my mind clean. I would erase him, our son, and every memory of my old life. I would be reborn.

Leaving Ashes, Finding Her Sky

I gave my husband, Chandler, one of my kidneys to save his life. In return, he married me. I was a girl from an orphanage; he was a New York tycoon. I foolishly believed his gratitude would one day turn into love. Then his first love, Kristyn, came back. When she was diagnosed with a rare blood disorder, Chandler dragged me to the hospital and demanded I give her my bone marrow. My doctors warned him that with my failing health, another major surgery would be a death sentence. He called me selfish and forced me onto the operating table. As the doors swung shut, I saw Kristyn, who was supposed to be dying, sit up in her bed. A wicked, triumphant smile spread across her face. Through the glass, she mouthed the words. "I don't have a blood disorder, you idiot." A nurse plunged a thick needle into my spine. They were draining my life away to appease a liar, all on my husband's orders. I died on that table, my last thought a prayer that I would never see him again. But when I opened my eyes, I wasn't in heaven. I was in a private medical facility, and my long-lost childhood friend, Elijah, was standing over me. He looked at me, his eyes burning with a protective fire. "I faked your death, Ava," he said, his voice cold with rage. "Now, let's make them pay."

His Betrayal, My Erased Memory

Four years after my son Leo drowned, I was still lost in a fog of grief. My husband, Eli Stark, the tech mogul, was the public' s saint, a devoted father who built a foundation in Leo' s name. But when I went to finalize Leo' s death certificate, a clerk' s casual comment shattered my world: "Mr. Stark has another dependent child listed." The name hit me like a physical blow: Cody Sharpe, son of Kasey Sharpe, the woman who had stalked Eli for years. I found them, a perfect family, Eli laughing, a happiness I hadn't seen in years. Then, I overheard Kasey confessing to Eli that his affair with her was why he wasn't watching Leo the day he died. My world crumbled. For four years, I had carried the guilt, believing Leo' s death was a tragic accident, comforting Eli who blamed himself for a "work call." It was all a lie. His betrayal had killed our son. The man I loved, the man who had built a prison of grief around me, was living a happy life with another family. He had watched me suffer, letting me blame myself, while his secret festered. How could he? How could he stand there and lie, knowing his actions led to our son' s death? The injustice burned, a cold, sharp rage replacing my grief. I called my lawyer, then my former mentor, Casey Long, whose experimental memory erasure research was my only hope. "I want to forget," I whispered, "I need to forget everything. Erase him for me."

The Man Who Forgot Her

My fiancé, Floyd Meyers, announced he was canceling our engagement. He was proposing to Jaylah Ryan, an heiress, all because a psychic claimed I was the cause of his misfortune. Jaylah then falsely accused me of tearing her expensive gown. Floyd ordered his guards to slap me fifty times and forced me to kneel in the snow all night to mend it. When Jaylah's mother needed an emergency transfusion of my rare blood type, he dragged me to the hospital to be used as a living blood bag, without anesthetic. He threatened my mother and my dog, forcing me to repair an architectural model for him. When Jaylah engineered another incident, he threatened to burn my mother's hands unless I confessed to a crime I didn't commit. My own mother, terrified, screamed at me to sacrifice myself. With a numb heart, I chose my own hands, enduring the searing agony of hot coals until they were ruined and blackened. As I lay dying, he appeared only to snarl, "I hope you die and rot in the ground. I never want to see your face again." The truth shattered me when the psychic confessed Floyd had paid her to lie. He had orchestrated my downfall from the start. When I confronted him, he forced champagne down my throat and drowned me in the pool. But I woke up again, back on the day I first met Floyd Meyers.

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.

Rejected No More: I Am Way Out Of Your League, Darling!

For ten years, Daniela showered her ex-husband with unwavering devotion, only to discover she was just his biggest joke. Feeling humiliated yet determined, she finally divorced him. Three months later, Daniela returned in grand style. She was now the hidden CEO of a leading brand, a sought-after designer, and a wealthy mining mogul-her success unveiled at her triumphant comeback. Her ex-husband's entire family rushed over, desperate to beg for forgiveness and plead for another chance. Yet Daniela, now cherished by the famed Mr. Phillips, regarded them with icy disdain. "I'm out of your league."

The $300 Husband Is A Zillionaire

I woke up in a blindingly white hotel penthouse with a throbbing headache and the taste of betrayal in my mouth. The last thing I remembered was my stepsister, Cathie, handing me a flute of champagne at the charity gala with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Now, a tall, dangerously handsome man walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. On the nightstand sat a stack of hundred-dollar bills. My stepmother had finally done it—she drugged me and staged a scandal with a hired escort to destroy my reputation and my future. "Aisha! Is it true you spent the night with a gigolo?" The shouts of a dozen reporters echoed through the heavy oak door as camera flashes exploded through the peephole. My phone lit up with messages showing my bank accounts were already frozen. My father was invoking the 'morality clause' in my mother’s trust fund, and my fiancé had already released a statement dumping me to marry my stepsister instead. I was trapped, penniless, and being hunted by the press for a scandal I hadn't even participated in. My own family had sold me out for a payday, and the man standing in front of me was the only witness who could prove I was innocent—or finish me off for good. I didn't have time to cry. According to the fine print of the trust, I had thirty days to prove my "rehabilitation" through a legal marriage or I would lose everything. I tracked the man down to a coffee shop the next morning, watching him take a thick envelope of cash from a wealthy older woman. I sat across from him and slid a napkin with a $50,000 figure written on it. "I need a husband. Legal, paper-signed, and convincing." He looked at the number, then at me, a slow, crooked smile spreading across his face. I thought I was hiring a desperate gigolo to save my inheritance. I had no idea I was actually proposing to Dominic Fields, the reclusive billionaire shark who was currently planning a hostile takeover of my father’s entire empire.

Revealing My Secret Identities! My Bros Are Speechless!

For seventeen years, I was the crown jewel of the Kensington empire, the perfect daughter groomed for a royal future. Then, a cream-colored envelope landed in my lap, bearing a gold crest and a truth that turned my world into ice. The DNA test result was a cold, hard zero percent-I wasn't a Kensington. Before the ink could even dry, my parents invited my replacement, a girl named Alleen, into the drawing room and treated me like a trespasser in my own home. My mother, who once hosted galas in my honor, wouldn't even look me in the eye as she stroked Alleen's arm, whispering that she was finally "safe." My father handed me a one-million-dollar check-a mere tip for a billionaire-and told me to leave immediately to avoid tanking the company's stock price. "You're a thief! You lived my life, you spent my money, and you don't get to keep the loot!" Alleen shrieked, trying to claw the designer jacket off my shoulders while my "parents" watched with clinical detachment. I was dumped on a gritty sidewalk in Queens with nothing but three trunks and the address of a struggling laborer I was now supposed to call "Dad." I traded a marble mansion for a crumbling walk-up where the air smelled of exhaust and my new bedroom was a literal storage closet. My biological family thought I was a broken princess, and the Kensingtons thought they had successfully erased me with a payoff and a non-disclosure agreement. They had no idea that while I was hauling trunks up four flights of stairs, my secret media empire was already preparing to move against them. As I sat on a thin mattress in the dark, I opened my encrypted laptop and sent a single command that would cost my former father ten million dollars by breakfast. They thought they were throwing me to the wolves, but they forgot one thing: I'm the one who leads the pack.

SCORNED EX WIFE : Queen Of Ashes

Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace. But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge. A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart. Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn. But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left? A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again? She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.

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."