Five Years, A Beautiful Placeholder

My Body, Their Betrayal: A Political Game

I thought my pregnancy was the culmination of our love. But it was just a calculated move in my husband's political game. A surrogacy agreement on his laptop revealed the horrifying truth. The contract stated that after his election, custody of my baby would be transferred to my unstable sister, Britni. I overheard them all-my husband, my sister, and even my own parents-discussing the plan. They called me a "walking incubator," a strategic asset with "perfect genetics" for their campaign narrative. My life wasn't a love story; it was a transaction. They had turned my body into a political tool and planned to steal my child. The trusting woman I was died that night, replaced by a cold, calculated strategist ready for war. They thought they had me trapped, a perfect prop for their perfect family. But they made a fatal mistake. I walked into a clinic and made a choice that was mine alone, severing the last tie that bound me to their monstrous ambition. Then, I picked up the phone and called the one journalist who could burn their entire world to the ground.

She Heard Their Secrets, She Built Her Empire

I woke up with the familiar scent of burnt coffee, seeing my charming boyfriend, Ethan Scott, across from me in our town's diner. He was pitching a blueprint for his "ultimate survivalist influencer retreat," that smile on his face the same one that made everyone swoon. But then, it all crashed back: the blueprint, the diner, the date. Ten days until the solar flare. Ten days until the end. I' d lived this before. In my previous life, I poured my family's everything into building this exact bunker for him. He promised payment, sponsorship. It never came. When the sky turned green and the grid failed, he locked us out-my parents and me, begging at the reinforced window of the shelter we built. He laughed as we died in the chaos. Now, as he spoke, his voice a smooth river of lies, another voice echoed in my head, sharp and clear: his real, sickening thoughts. This wasn't a dream. It was a second chance, and with it, a terrifying new ability to hear the betrayal lurking beneath his words. He took everything from us then. This time, I'm taking it all back. And I' m starting with his ultimate retreat.

Too Late, Mr. Don: The Wife You Buried

I went to the family lawyer for a routine travel clearance. Instead, I was handed a divorce decree. The ink was three years old. While I had been playing the role of the dutiful Capo's wife, Dante had secretly divorced me the day after our fifth anniversary. Twenty-four hours later, he legally married the nanny, Gia, and named her cruel-eyed son as his heir. I returned home to confront him, only for the boy to throw boiling tomato soup on me. Dante didn't check my burns. He cradled the boy and looked at me with pure, drug-fueled hatred, calling me a monster for upsetting his "son." The final blow came in a parking garage. A car sped toward us. Dante didn't pull me to safety. He shoved me into the vehicle's path, using my body as a human shield to protect his mistress. Lying broken on the asphalt, I realized Aria Vitiello was already dead to him. So, I decided to make it official. I arranged a private flight over the Atlantic and ensured there were no survivors. By the time Dante was weeping over the wreckage, realizing too late that he had been poisoned against me, I was already in France. The Canary was dead. The Reaper had risen.

Too Late For Your Forgiveness Now

My throat was closing up, anaphylactic shock setting in from the peanuts my half-sister, Kecia, had hidden in the macaron. But Jonathan didn't call 911. He rolled his eyes, called me "dramatic," and handed Kecia my late mother's vintage Cartier bracelet-the one heirloom I had left-just to comfort her. I woke up in the ER alone, only to find my father had sold me off to save his company. I was forced to marry Gage Sawyer, the "Sleeping Prince," a man rumored to be in a permanent vegetative state. Jonathan stayed with Kecia, believing her lie that she was his childhood savior. He didn't know I was the one who saved him years ago. He didn't care that she tried to kill me. But on my wedding day, as I stood by the altar ready to sign my life away, my comatose groom suddenly squeezed my hand. Gage Sawyer was wide awake, and he wanted revenge just as much as I did. When Jonathan finally learned the truth and crashed the wedding begging for forgiveness, I looked him dead in the eye. "You're trespassing, Mr. Chavez." "I'm Mrs. Sawyer now."

Unwanted Mate: The Rise of the Silver Healer

Five years ago, I poured my rare Silver Essence into Alpha Damien’s dying body, nearly sacrificing my own life to stitch his fatal wounds. But when he woke up, Seraphina was the one sitting by his bedside with a wet cloth. He assumed she was his savior, and she never corrected him. Now, three weeks before our Mating Ceremony, Damien brought her into our home. She was pregnant, and she was wearing his bite mark. "It is a Life Debt, Isla," Damien told me, his voice devoid of warmth. "She saved me. The Elders invoked the statute. You will accept this." He moved her into the penthouse meant for us. He demanded I use my healing gifts to tend to his mistress and their "miracle" heir. I became a ghost in my own pack, forced to watch my Fated Mate shower her with the love that belonged to me. He even ordered me to publicly apologize to her for my "jealousy." But as I reviewed her medical file, I found the truth he was too blind to see. The fetus was six weeks old. He had only marked her three weeks ago. And her energy levels? Non-existent. She didn't have a drop of healing magic in her blood. Damien thought I was preparing for our wedding. Instead, I picked up a red marker and crossed out the date on the calendar. On the morning of the ceremony, while he waited at the altar, I answered his frantic call. "I, Isla, reject you, Damien." It was time he learned exactly what he had thrown away.

A Doctor's Fall, A Mafia Queen's Rise

My husband, a Mafia Underboss, built me a perfect life. I was the Chief Resident at a top hospital, the accomplished Dr. Falcone. But my world shattered when a woman brought her four-year-old son to my clinic. The boy had a rare genetic allergy—one that runs only in my family. On his intake form, his father’s name was listed as "Emilio Thomas," my husband's secret middle name. Then, my husband’s voice came through the woman’s phone, and I saw him pick them up from my office window, a perfect, secret family. That night, at our family's most important gala, the boy ran up to me, screaming, "You're the bad lady trying to take my daddy away!" The crowd turned on me, whispering that I was the other woman. On the boy's wrist was the custom bracelet I gave my husband on our first anniversary. When I reached for it, Emilio shoved me. I hit my head on a table, and a sharp pain ripped through my abdomen as blood soaked my dress. I lost the baby I didn't even know I was carrying—the legitimate Moretti heir. My husband turned his back on me, leaving with his other family as I bled on the ballroom floor. He never visited me in the hospital. His mistress, Hayden, did. She gloated that she’d planned it all, and that Emilio swore he'd never have another child after their son was born. I was just a barren, placeholder wife. But this was more than a betrayal; it was a declaration of war. That night, I stared at two pink lines on a pregnancy test I’d taken before the gala. I was six weeks pregnant with the true Moretti heir, and now, I had a weapon.

Invisible To Her Bully

Unlike her twin brother, Jackson, Jessa struggled with her weight and very few friends. Jackson was an athlete and the epitome of popularity, while Jessa felt invisible. Noah was the quintessential "It" guy at school-charismatic, well-liked, and undeniably handsome. To make matters worse, he was Jackson's best friend and Jessa's biggest bully. During their senior year, Jessa decides it was time for her to gain some self-confidence, find her true beauty and not be the invisible twin. As Jessa transformed, she begins to catch the eye of everyone around her, especially Noah. Noah, initially blinded by his perception of Jessa as merely Jackson's sister, started to see her in a new light. How did she become the captivating woman invading his thoughts? When did she become the object of his fantasies? Join Jessa on her journey from being the class joke to a confident, desirable young woman, surprising even Noah as she reveals the incredible person she has always been inside.

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 Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon

For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted. Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke. Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph. Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!" With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off." A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!"

From Trophy Wife to Scientific Queen

My husband Julian celebrated our five-year anniversary by sleeping with his mistress. He thought I was a clueless trophy wife, too dim to notice the vanilla and tuberose scent on his expensive suits. He was wrong. For years, I played Mrs. Vance, hiding my brilliance while Julian claimed my patents. An anonymous email confirmed his ultimate betrayal: photos of him and Scarlett Kensington in ecstasy. My heart didn't break; it solidified into ice at five years wasted. I activated "The Protocol" for a new identity and escape countdown. Playing the doting wife, I plotted his downfall, catching him with his mistress selling my work, and publicly snapping his credit card. His betrayals and stolen work ignited a cold, calculated fury. He had no idea the monster he'd created. I was dismantling his empire. I shredded his patent papers, stripping him of his ill-gotten gains. With a final tap, I initiated "Identity Erasure." Mrs. Vance was dead. Dr. Evelyn Thorne had just begun her counterattack.

The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

I was finally brought back to the billionaire Vance estate after years in the grimy foster system, but the luxury Lincoln felt more like a funeral procession. My biological family didn't welcome me with open arms; they looked at me like a stain on a silk shirt. They thought I was a "defective" mute with cognitive delays, a spare part to be traded away. Within hours of my arrival, my father decided to sell me to Julian Thorne, a bitter, paralyzed heir, just to secure a corporate merger. My sister Tiffany treated me like trash, whispering for me to "go back to the gutter" before pouring red wine over my dress in front of Manhattan's elite. When a drunk cousin tried to lay hands on me at the engagement gala, my grandmother didn't protect me-she raised her silver-topped cane to strike my face for "embarrassing the family." They called me a sacrificial lamb, laughing as they signed the prenuptial agreement that stripped me of my freedom. They had no idea I was E-11, the underground hacker-artist the world was obsessed with, or that I had already breached their private servers. I found the hidden medical records-blood types A, A, and B-a biological impossibility that proved my "parents" were harboring a scandal that could ruin them. Why bring me back just to discard me again? And why was Julian Thorne, the man supposedly bound to a wheelchair, secretly running miles at dawn on his private estate? Standing in the middle of the ballroom, I didn't plead for mercy. I used a text-to-speech app to broadcast a cold, synthetic threat: "I have the records, Richard. Do you want me to explain genetics to the press, or should we leave quietly?" With the "paralyzed" billionaire as my unexpected accomplice, I walked out of the Vance house and into a much more dangerous game.

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.