Strawberry Shame, Billionaire's Revenge

He Called Me Needy, Then Lost

For seven years, I sacrificed my career to be the invisible woman behind my rising star boyfriend, August. But on our anniversary, I watched him on a livestream, openly flirting with his co-star, Alana, while the internet hailed them as the perfect couple. His fans sent me death threats, calling me "forgettable" and "unworthy." When I begged him for help, he called me "needy" and told me I was "overreacting." Yet, when Alana faced the same online hate, he held a press conference, fiercely defending her as a "vulnerable artist." The man who dismissed my suffering was now a champion against injustice for another woman. I realized he wasn't incapable of empathy; he just chose not to direct it at me. I wasn't just forgettable. I was a fool. So I packed my bags, blocked his number, and booked a one-way ticket out of his life, ready to finally stop being invisible.

Unmasking My Mafia Fiancé

My fiancé, a mafia Capo, promised the painkillers would help after the "car crash." It was a lie. The real accident was his temper, and I was his favorite punching bag. In a medicated haze, I overheard the truth. He was on the phone with his consigliere, boasting about stealing my billion-dollar casino blueprint. He was going to use it to become Underboss. He planned to propose, then use our world's code of silence to legally gag me from ever claiming my own work. His mistress, Olivia, would be the public face of the project. The worst part was the truth about my miscarriage. It wasn't an accident. He and Olivia had orchestrated it, calling our baby a "complication" that would kill his ambition. At a party, he proved it all. After shoving me to the ground in front of everyone, he walked away with her, leaving me in a heap of humiliation. The love I had for him didn't just die; it turned into a cold, hard certainty. He had taken my work, my child, and my dignity. So I sent him one last email: a file containing proof of every lie, every betrayal, and a video of his abuse. The subject line read: "My Wedding Gift." Then I boarded a one-way flight to New York to partner with the one man he truly feared. This wasn't a breakup. It was war.

Stolen Womb, Stolen Life

Seven years. My marriage to Matthew Lester, the golden boy of Texas high society, was outwardly perfect. I was even pregnant, finally giving his ecstatic parents the grandchild they longed for. I told myself I was happy. Then, his phone lit up with a text from Nicole Lawrence, my high school rival. "Did you tell her yet?" the message read. My blood ran cold as I scrolled up and saw Matthew's reply, "Not yet. Let her enjoy the pregnancy for a little while." Nicole' s next message ripped the air from my lungs: "It's my pregnancy too, Matt. My baby. I want to be the one to feel it kick." The baby growing inside me wasn't mine. It was Matthew' s and Nicole' s, conceived via IVF, and I was merely a surrogate. The man who supposedly saved me after my father' s tragic death had turned me into a vessel for his and my greatest betrayer' s child. My perfect life was a cage, and the truth made it crumble. How could he? How could they? The horror of being used, violated, and utterly betrayed by the two people who had already shaped my darkest moments was unbearable. Every act of kindness, every loving word, every shared dream was a calculated lie. My father' s death, my shattered past-it was all a setup. But a cold resolve settled in. I wouldn't be a victim again. I wouldn't break. I would play their game, then I would disappear, erase Stella Lester, and reclaim my life, whatever the cost.

The Voice They Stole: A Vargas Reckoning

I was Amelia "Mia" Vargas, the orphan girl who'd clawed her way to country music stardom, living out my fairytale as I prepared to get engaged to Nashville's golden boy, Jax Thorne, live on the CMA red carpet. The flashbulbs popped, the crowd cheered, and my heart pounded with a future I thought was finally mine, a dream come true for the girl from nowhere. Then, the nightmare literally burst onto the scene: Jax's ex-fiancée, Brooke Harrington, materialized, distraught. He brazenly dropped my hand, embraced her, and publicly branded me an "opportunistic social climber" right before security wrestled me away like a discarded prop. My world imploded. My career was systematically obliterated—songs pulled from radio, venues canceled, my name tarnished beyond recognition. But the ultimate blow came when Jax invaded my sanctuary, savagely smashing the vintage guitar that was my very soul. As I desperately lunged to save it, he shoved me, and I fell. My choked scream turned into a gurgle as my vocal cords ruptured, stealing the unique voice that defined me. Not content with my silence, Brooke, with a cruel smirk, offered me a final, crushing humiliation: an internship, serving coffee to the man who'd ruthlessly taken absolutely everything. I was broken, voiceless, stripped bare, and they thought I was utterly alone, a defeated footnote in their grand political ascent. They thought they knew the orphan girl. But they had no idea who they had truly crossed, or that the name Vargas held a horrifying, unspoken power.

Ashes of Lily: A Mother's Fury

As a geologist, I suffocated in my husband Jack Thorne's gilded cage. Our six-year-old, Lily, was my only joy amidst the fake smiles of a gala night. Then, a simple juice spill on Tiffany Bellweather's couture gown – Jack's mistress-EA. Lily's accident turned chilling when Jack, enraged by her defiance, declared her punishment: abandonment in the brutal Nevada desert. He drove her off, casually promising a "desert experience," complete with a drone feed for me. I watched my terrified daughter face scorpions, rattlesnakes, and scorching heat. This wasn't punishment; it was calculated torture. The drone showed Lily, small and alone, whimpering. Jack was unmoved. Then Tiffany's poisoned confession: she orchestrated the spill. Jack simply sought an excuse to hurt me through our child. This calculated betrayal broke me, leaving me utterly helpless. On screen, a rattlesnake bite. Jack ignored my pleas. Lily died. My world shattered. I vanished with her ashes, fueled by icy fury. My geological expertise, once dismissed, would become my ultimate weapon. Jack destroyed my life. I would dismantle his empire.

Cunning Sweetie: Love Is Poison

Sophie married Harold only for the benefit of her family. The two of them had no feelings for each other. Later, she wanted to leave Harold, but divorcing him was out of the question. So instead, she made her twin sister, Sally, become her substitute for a few days. However, on the first day Sally played the part of her sister, she slept with her brother-in-law. After that night, Harold became obsessed with her. She was like poison, slowly taking his heart away. He couldn’t figure out how his cold wife had suddenly become so irresistible.

Brilliance Unmasked: The Cold-Blooded Tycoon Wants His Vengeful Queen

Arabella, a state-trained prodigy, won freedom after seven brutal years. Back home, she found her aunt basking in her late parents' mansion while her twin sister scrounged for scraps. Fury ignited her genius. She gutted the aunt's business overnight and enrolled in her sister's school, crushing the bullies. When cynics sneered at her "plain background," a prestigious family claimed her and the national lab hailed her. Reporters swarmed, influencers swooned, and jealous rivals watched their fortunes crumble. Even Asher-the rumored ruthless magnate-softened, murmuring, "Fixed your mess-now be mine."

Traded Husbands, Tangled Hearts: Can Destiny Be Changed?

In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end. Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced. This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak. Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely. Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings?

I Paid the Alpha King for One Night

For three years, I was the perfect, invisible wife. My husband, Jaden, called the songs I poured my soul into "trash," then secretly fed them to his pop-star mistress to make her famous. Then one night, after being drugged at a gala, I woke up in a stranger's bed. It wasn't just the betrayal that shattered me; it was the soul-deep certainty that this powerful, dangerous man was my true fated mate. I fled home in a panic, only to find a message on Jaden's phone confirming my worst fears. His mistress, the woman singing my songs on the radio, was pregnant with the baby he'd always told me I was too weak to carry. The nightmare deepened when I learned the identity of the man from the hotel. He was Carter Mcclain, the ruthless Alpha King-and my husband's older brother. He looked at me with eyes that knew my secret, his cruel smirk promising that my life was now a game for his amusement. Jaden had stolen my music, my dream of a family, and my future, leaving me trapped between his betrayal and his terrifying brother. He thought he had broken me, leaving me with nothing. He forgot he left me with the rage that wrote the songs. And I was about to write their final, brutal verse.

Reborn Heiress: The Wolf's Vengeance Deal

I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive. Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice. "It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison." She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole. I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath. Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him. "I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."

Abandoned Luna: Now Untouchable

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.