The Vengeful Groom's Deception

Reborn: The Alpha's Regret and the Serpent's Queen

It was the Mating Ceremony, the most important day for our pack, but for me, it felt like walking to the gallows. I stood on the velvet carpet, waiting for Jacob, the Alpha heir, to claim me. Suddenly, my younger sister Bella threw herself at the Elder's feet, screaming that she and Jacob were in love. Jacob didn't deny it. He looked at me with cold calculation, announced he chose her, and publicly broke our engagement. In my previous life, this betrayal broke me. I had fought to marry him, only to become a "defective incubator" locked in a room. I remembered the bruises that never healed and the fire that eventually killed me. While I burned to death, Jacob only cared about saving Bella. Now, standing in the same spot, the crowd mocked me as "damaged goods." My father sneered, pointing to the back of the room where the "lesser" clans stood, telling me to pick a rat or a snake if I wanted to stay in the Pack House. They thought they were ruining me. They didn't realize they were handing me the key to my freedom. I turned away from the smirking wolves and walked toward the darkest corner of the room. There sat Draco, the Serpent King, a man everyone feared and despised. He was the only one who had tried to smash through the burning beams to save me in my past life. I stopped in front of him, ignored the gasps of the crowd, and extended my hand. "I choose you."

Lies, Betrayal, And The Baby I Hid Away

I stepped into our penthouse for my baby shower, caressing my eight-month bump, expecting balloons and laughter. But instead of joy, I found my husband, Michael, cradling a newborn that wasn't ours. Beside him sat his assistant, Serena, looking far too comfortable. Michael looked me dead in the eye, his expression cold and flat, and introduced the infant as his firstborn son. They didn't apologize. Instead, Serena mocked my high-risk pregnancy, calling me a mere "incubator" for the spare heir. When I demanded they leave, Serena shoved me. I hit the floor hard, screaming in agony as pain ripped through my belly. But Michael didn't help me. He stepped over my convulsing body to comfort her, accusing me of being dramatic. He walked out with his new family, leaving me bleeding alone on the nursery floor. Lying in the hospital later, I overheard Michael on the phone. He wasn't worried. He laughed, revealing his plan to use my family's connections for his IPO before divorcing me and taking full custody of my child. He didn't love me. He only wanted the heir. That was the moment the old Olivia died. I knew I had to deny him the only thing he truly wanted. I wiped my tears, touched my stomach where my son was still kicking, and made a decision that would sever us forever. I told my lawyer to deliver a simple message to Michael. "Tell him the baby didn't make it."

Justice Served By My True Love

For seven years, I was the secret wife of tech billionaire Ethan Richardson, the ghostwriter of his success. I sacrificed everything for him, only to be discarded for my own protégée after he forced me through five abortions. I rebuilt my life from the ashes, finally finding peace. But at our ten-year reunion, Ethan reappeared. He saw my five-year-old daughter, Mia, and a terrifying obsession ignited in his eyes, convinced she was the child I had hidden from him. His madness escalated until he kidnapped her, luring me to an abandoned warehouse with a chilling threat. "Come alone if you want to see our daughter again." How could this man, who left me to miscarry our last child alone in a hospital, now dare to call himself a father? He offered me a twisted deal: our 'family' back together, in exchange for my daughter's life. But he made one fatal mistake. He never bothered to find out who my new husband was.

Eight Years of Gilded Cage

It was our eighth wedding anniversary, and my husband, Mark Johnson, wasn't home. He was celebrating another woman's birthday, as usual. I sat in the silence of our gilded cage, the emotional wounds from years of neglect and indifference finally festering. He never hit me, not until tonight, but Chloe's Instagram post-Mark, her, a cake-ignited a rage I couldn't contain. When he finally stumbled in, past midnight, reeking of her perfume, I confronted him. "It's our anniversary, Mark." He sneered, "At least she's fun to be around. She doesn't just sit in the dark waiting to ambush me." The words tasted like poison. "I want a divorce, Mark." His face went white. "And," I added, "I'm pregnant. And the baby isn't yours." His shock turned to pure fury. "You lying, cheating bitch." He lunged, shoved me hard, and I fell backward, hitting the coffee table. A searing pain ripped through me. I looked down to see blood spreading on my dress. "Mark," I gasped, "The hospital... please..." He just scoffed, "You think a baby that isn't mine is your ticket out? You're pathetic, Ava." He pocketed the watch I'd bought him for our anniversary and walked out, leaving me bleeding on the floor. Eight years. He left me to die. Lying there, clutching my bleeding stomach, I knew I had to do something. For my baby. My fingers, slick with blood, fumbled for my phone, calling the one person who had ever shown me true kindness. Someone I' d promised I' d never call. That night, Liam Thorne answered.

Reclaiming My Life, Redefining Love

I opened my eyes to a sterile hospital room after three years in a coma, a miracle, Dr. Reed called me. My memory, a slow agonizing puzzle, was finally whole. I remembered everything. The first person I saw wasn' t my fiancé, Mark. It was my old professor, Dr. Reed, holding my hand, her face a mix of relief and concern. Mark Harrison was waiting at the entrance of our house, looking older, his face etched with ambition, not grief. He didn' t rush to hug me, didn' t even smile. "Ava," he said, his voice flat. "You're back." Then she emerged: Chloe Davis, my old rival, now standing on my doorstep with a triumphant smile, her arm wrapped around Mark' s. On her wrist, my patented smartwatch gleamed. "Chloe has been a rock for me," Mark announced, looking at her with practiced adoration. "We're engaged." A month after my car crash – a supposed accident – he was engaged. A month after that, her company acquired a crucial patent from my firm. From inside, Spark, my AI companion, spoke. Its warm, inquisitive voice now clipped, devoted to Chloe. My home, stripped of my art, my books, everything that was me. "Chloe has taken over the company and our lives," Mark snarled, his patience gone. "You'll just have to accept it." He expected tears, but I felt only relief. The fog was gone. I saw him for what he was. "Okay," I said, my voice calm and even. "I accept it." He stared, confused. I was not the woman he thought he had destroyed. My purpose here wasn't to reclaim a lost love, but my life's work. Then came the child' s wail. Chloe rushed out, blaming my "legacy systems" for a scratch on a boy named Alex. "It wasn't a malfunction," I stated, pointing to the error log. "The command came from your smartwatch, Chloe. You probably held Alex's arm just a little too close to it." Her face went pale, then contorted with manufactured fear for Mark' s benefit. "You are unbelievable," Mark spat, blocking my path. "Something you could never give me." "I want access to Spark," I demanded. "I am the creator." "You have no rights!" he yelled. "Spark is not your company's property, Mark," I replied, my voice dangerously low. "Spark is mine." He knew that wasn' t an empty threat. He knew what I was capable of.

His Political Prop, Her Revenge

My life with political hopeful Ethan Hayes was a gilded cage in the Hamptons. We hosted glittering fundraisers, surrounded by donors and power brokers. I thought I had everything, a perfect facade. Then, my half-sister Brooke feigned a champagne glass accident, theatrically blaming me. Ethan, my devoted husband, immediately turned on me, his face a mask of cold fury. He publicly branded me "unwell" and "unhinged," erasing my existence for his career. That night, two men dragged me away to a brutal "wellness retreat" in Montana. For two years, it was a prison where I was drugged, abused, and systematically broken, losing my voice and my identity. I was a shell, trained only to survive. Ethan never visited, only paid the enormous monthly fees. When he brought me back as a political prop, my trauma erupted; I instinctively dropped to my knees and shined a donor's shoes. He called me "shameless" and "unhinged," reinforcing my public ruin. The final, searing truth came from Brooke: Ethan had paid a "management fee" to specifically destroy me. The numb silence of two years fractured. An icy, pure rage ignited within me. Locked away, I used a hidden bobby pin to pick the lock, my hands shaking with adrenaline. This broken woman was coming for him, armed with the buried evidence that would be his absolute ruin.

Secret Baby: The Jilted Wife's Final Goodbye

I sat on the cold tile floor of our Upper East Side penthouse, staring at the two pink lines until my vision blurred. After ten years of loving Julian Sterling and three years of a hollow marriage, I finally had the one thing that could bridge the distance between us. I was pregnant. But Julian didn't come home with flowers for our anniversary. He tossed a thick manila envelope onto the marble coffee table with a heavy thud. Fiona, the woman he'd truly loved for years, was back in New York, and he told me our "business deal" was officially over. "Sign it," He said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. He looked at me with the cold detachment of a man selling a piece of unwanted furniture. When I hesitated, he told me to add a zero to the alimony if the money wasn't enough. I realized in that moment that if he knew about the baby, he wouldn't love me; he would simply take my child and give it to Fiona to raise. I shoved the pregnancy test into my pocket, signed the papers with a shaking hand, and lied through my teeth. When my morning sickness hit, I slumped to the floor to hide the truth. "It's just cramps," I gasped, watching him recoil as if I were contagious. To make him stay away, I invented a man named Jack-a fake boyfriend who supposedly gave me the kindness Julian never could. Suddenly, the man who wanted me gone became a monster of possessiveness. He threatened to "bury" a man who didn't exist while leaving me humiliated at his family's dinner to rush to Fiona's side. I was so broken that I even ate a cake I was deathly allergic to, then had to refuse life-saving steroids at the hospital because they would harm the fetus. Julian thinks he's stalling the divorce for two months to protect the family's reputation for his father's Jubilee. He thinks he's keeping his "property" on a short leash until the press dies down. He has no idea I'm using those sixty days to build a fortress for my child. By the time he realizes the truth, I'll be gone, and the Sterling heir will be far beyond his reach.

Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me Now

The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."

The Cursed Heiress: Now I'm Their Billionaire Nightmare

Nadine reunited with her family, convinced she'd been discarded, rage simmering-only to find collapse: her mother unstable, her father poisoned; a pianist brother trapped in a sham marriage, a detective brother framed and jailed, the youngest dragged into a gang. While the fake daughter mocked and colluded, Nadine moved in secret-healing her mother, curing her father, ending the union, clearing charges, and lifting the youngest to leader. Rumors said she rode coattails, unworthy of Rhys, the unmatched magnate. Few knew she was a renowned healer, legendary assassin, mysterious tycoon... Rhys knelt. "Marry me! The entire empire is yours for the taking!"

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.

Reborn And Remade: Pursued By The Billionaire

In her previous life, Kimberly endured the betrayal of her husband, the cruel machinations of an evil woman, and the endless tyranny of her in-laws. It culminated in the bankruptcy of her family, and ultimately, her death. After being reborn, she resolved to seek retribution against those who had wronged her, and ensure her family's prosperity. To her shock, the most unattainable man from her past suddenly set his sights on her. "You may have overlooked me before, but I shall capture your heart this time around."

The Bride He Cast Away on Their Wedding Night

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?