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For ten years, I was Ethan Vance, the Silicon Valley "fixer," the "soul mediator" everyone trusted to clear digital ghosts and optimize karma. Then Kevin, my girlfriend Sarah' s adopted brother, showed up with his charming lies and half-price "digital shaman" tricks, stealing my clients and my reputation bit by bit. My downfall culminated in a botched "karma optimization" where the client died a gruesome digital death, Kevin vanished, and I was framed for his sabotage. The mogul' s enraged family and my disgruntled former clients, convinced I was a greedy fraud, beat me to death, unable to scream the truth about Kevin' s betrayal. But then, I opened my eyes, and I was back-standing in a luxurious smart home, the day before my life crumbled, the tech CEO handing me a data chip, Sarah and Kevin by my side; this time, things would be different.
For ten years, I was Ethan Vance, the Silicon Valley "fixer," the "soul mediator" everyone trusted to clear digital ghosts and optimize karma.
Then Kevin, my girlfriend Sarah' s adopted brother, showed up with his charming lies and half-price "digital shaman" tricks, stealing my clients and my reputation bit by bit.
My downfall culminated in a botched "karma optimization" where the client died a gruesome digital death, Kevin vanished, and I was framed for his sabotage.
The mogul' s enraged family and my disgruntled former clients, convinced I was a greedy fraud, beat me to death, unable to scream the truth about Kevin' s betrayal.
But then, I opened my eyes, and I was back-standing in a luxurious smart home, the day before my life crumbled, the tech CEO handing me a data chip, Sarah and Kevin by my side; this time, things would be different.
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Modern
For seven years, I was his secret. His brilliant, naive Elodie. Last night, he held me and called me his future. Today, his sister, my best friend, showed me the pictures from his engagement party. My life's work, a revolutionary bio-printed kidney, was meant to save his dying fiancée. But then I overheard his real plan. If my research failed, he had a backup. "She's got a nice pair of kidneys," he told his friends. "Perfect match." He'd secretly filmed our most intimate moments, blackmail to force me onto the operating table. I wasn't his love. I was his insurance policy. A spare part. He thought he had me cornered. He underestimated his "naive little scientist." So I faked my death and disappeared. Five years later, I'm back, my name on the cover of every scientific journal. And he's about to find out that the woman he tried to butcher is now the one who holds his entire world in her hands.
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Modern
For ten years, I waited for my childhood sweetheart, Adonis, to marry me. But every year, our future was delayed by a ridiculous family ritual where he had to draw a "Fortunate" tarot card. For three years, he drew the "Unfortunate" card, enduring brutal penance that left him scarred and broken. I believed it was fate. Then, on the fourth year, I saw him draw the Fortunate card. My heart soared. We were finally free. But in a swift, practiced move, he swapped it for an Unfortunate one, choosing more suffering. I was frozen in shock. Later, I overheard him confess to his cousin. He' d been swapping the cards for four years. He couldn't marry me yet because of his assistant, Ariel. She' d threatened to do something drastic if he left her. He said he owed her. My world shattered. Every lash he took, every moment of pain I shared, was a lie. A charade performed for another woman. He had chosen his guilt for her over his love for me. He even accused me of monstrous cruelty based on her lies, shouting, "I can't believe I wasted ten years on someone so vindictive. Apologize to Ariel. Now." That was the moment I knew the man I loved was gone. So, I left. I flew to Hong Kong and married another man. But just as I found my new beginning, Adonis burst in, his eyes wild with regret, begging me to come back. And right behind him was Ariel, her face twisted with madness, a gleaming knife in her hand.
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Modern
My name is Arlie Stevens, and I was a mute girl who grew up in the shadows of the Rust Belt. My street art was our daily bread, and Bowen McClure was my protector, my first love, and my voice. But the boy who once fought off bullies for me decided to climb the social ladder by getting engaged to a ruthless corporate heiress, Kassandra Woodard. On their engagement night, Kassandra falsely accused me of ruining her gown. Bowen, my Bowen, publicly whipped me as punishment to appease her family. He told me it was to protect me, a necessary evil. Then he locked me in my room. As the party's fireworks lit up the sky, I smelled smoke. The apartment was on fire, and the door was locked from the outside. Through the flames, I heard Kassandra's voice, "Bowen locked her in. He wanted her out of the way." He didn't just abandon me; he tried to burn me alive. But I survived. And when a broken, guilt-ridden Bowen finally found me years later, begging for forgiveness after destroying the woman who orchestrated it all, I had only one thing to say to him.
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Mafia
At my ten-week ultrasound, I was supposed to be celebrating the future of the Falcone family. I was Isabella Falcone, wife to the most powerful Don in the south. But when the nurse called my name, the man who stood up beside his pregnant mistress was my husband. In the sterile silence of that waiting room, he chose her. He later confessed he was being blackmailed by her family—a weakness that was a death sentence in our world. That night, he moved his mistress into our home, into my bedroom, and locked me away like a prisoner in the staff quarters. He wasn't imprisoning his wife; he was guarding an asset. He needed the legitimate heir I carried to save his crumbling empire. His betrayal was absolute when his own mother and my adoptive parents arrived while he was away. They forced me to sign divorce papers, then told me they were taking me to a clinic. His mother pulled out a gun and pointed not at my head, but at my stomach. "We're terminating this complication," she said coldly. As they dragged me from the house, my world went dark. But through the haze, I saw a fleet of black cars blocking the gate. An army of men poured out, led by a face I had only ever seen in a photograph. Days earlier, locked in my room, I made a single phone call to the only man more powerful than my husband: my biological father, the head of the Chicago Outfit. And he had come to collect his daughter.
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Modern
The sterile scent of a hospital clung to me, even in my own sun-drenched room. Today was the presentation, the day my life was supposed to begin. Instead, it ended. Memories, sharp and brutal, flooded back: me, confidently presenting my skyscraper design. Then, the fatal error: File Not Found. My mother, Eleanor, fussing over my desk the night before, "accidentally" deleting everything. My father, Richard, dismissing my tears, "Listen to your mother. She knows what's best." My brother, Liam, smirking, "A skyscraper isn' t as important as Mom, is it?" Later that night, Eleanor offered a thick, green smoothie. "A special health smoothie, just for you." I drank it, trusting her. Minutes later, the tightening throat, the hives, the desperate fight for air. Anaphylactic shock. I was severely allergic to kiwi, and the smoothie was full of it. As my vision tunneled, I saw my family. They weren't calling 911. They were comforting Eleanor, who sobbed into my father' s shoulder. Liam shook his head, "She' s always so dramatic." And then, nothing. Until now. Waking up here. I saw the date on my phone. It was Wednesday morning. The day of the presentation. Cold, hard clarity settled over me. They hadn't just sabotaged my dream; they' d tried to kill me to control me. And now, I was back. Back to build a new blueprint. A blueprint for their ruin.
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Fantasy
The cold moonlight painted shadows across the floor, doing nothing to warm the chill that had settled deep in my bones as I knelt before my husband, Valerius. Just a year ago, he had promised me forever, swearing he' d always be my shield. Now, he looked at me with cold disgust. "Explain this," he demanded, tearing open my nightgown to reveal the withered flower branded into my shoulder – a symbol of shame, a mark of the lowest. Tears welled, blurring his furious face. I couldn' t tell him the truth, a horrific secret I' d sworn to keep to protect him. He shoved me away, calling me soiled, then laughed cruelly, refusing to "dirty his hands" on me, before storming out, slamming the door on everything we were. Driven by desperation, I tried to carve the mark off, nearly taking my life before my maid, Clara, stopped me, suggesting a brutal herbal remedy instead. The agony was blinding, but I endured it, for him, for us, for the love I yearned to reclaim. With a raw, weeping scar where the brand once was, I found him, hoping to see a flicker of the man I knew. He stared at my wound, then laughed, a short, ugly sound. "A scar is just as ugly as a brand. It proves nothing." My hope shattered, he delivered the final blow: he was marrying my cousin, Isabella, in a week. The physical pain from my scar was nothing compared to the gaping wound he' d torn in my chest, leaving me an empty void.
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"I heard you're going to marry Marcelo. Is this perhaps your revenge against me? It's very laughable, Renee. That man can barely function." Her foster family, her cheating ex, everyone thought Renee was going to live in pure hell after getting married to a disabled and cruel man. She didn't know if anything good would ever come out of it after all, she had always thought it would be hard for anyone to love her but this cruel man with dark secrets is never going to grant her a divorce because she makes him forget how to breathe.
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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.
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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.
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Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered. Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak. She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her. Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears. Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home."
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She spent ten years chasing after the right brother, only to fall for the wrong one in one weekend. ~~~ Sloane Mercer has been hopelessly in love with her best friend, Finn Hartley, since college. For ten long years, she's stood by him, stitching him back together every time Delilah Crestfield-his toxic on-and-off girlfriend-shattered his heart. But when Delilah gets engaged to another man, Sloane thinks this might finally be her chance to have Finn for herself. She couldn't be more wrong. Heartbroken and desperate, Finn decides to crash Delilah's wedding and fight for her one last time. And he wants Sloane by his side. Reluctantly, Sloane follows him to Asheville, hoping that being close to Finn will somehow make him see her the way she's always seen him. Everything changes when she meets Knox Hartley, Finn's older brother-a man who couldn't be more different from Finn. He's dangerously magnetic. Knox sees right through Sloane and makes it his mission to pull her into his world. What starts as a game-a twisted bet between them-soon turns into something deeper. Sloane is trapped between two brothers: one who's always broken her heart and another who seems hell-bent on claiming it... no matter the cost. CONTENT WARNING: This story is strongly 18+. It delves into dark romance themes such as obsession and lust with morally complex characters. While this is a love story, reader discretion is advised.
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In the glittering world of high society and cutthroat ambition, a single sentence shatters a marriage: "Let's get a divorce." For three years, Claire Thompson has lived in exile, her marriage to the powerful Nelson Cooper a hollow shell existing only on paper. Shipped abroad on her wedding day and utterly forgotten, she returns only to be handed divorce papers. But Claire is no longer the timid, heartbroken girl she once was. Behind her quiet facade lies a woman transformed, secretly rejoicing at her newfound freedom. However, freedom comes with a price. As Claire signs the papers with relief, a chilling phone call reveals a dark truth: the threats she faced overseas were no accident, and the trail leads shockingly close to home-to the family that raised her and the husband who discarded her. Just as she prepares to sever all ties, a twist of fate pulls her back into the gilded cage. Nelson, for reasons unknown, suddenly stalls the divorce. Meanwhile, the family that disowned her and the fragile, manipulative sister who stole her life are determined to ruin her reputation and drive her out for good. But Claire is playing a different game now. With a mysterious new identity, powerful allies, and secrets of her own, she is no one's pawn. As hidden truths unravel and loyalties are tested, a stunning question emerges: In this high-stakes battle of love, betrayal, and revenge, who is truly trapping whom?


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