The Scorned Fiancée's New Life

He Chose Her, I Chose Freedom

My husband, Keaton, and my adopted sister, Kaylene, betrayed me. I discovered Kaylene was pregnant with his child, a calculated move to secure an heir for the shipping empire my family built and he now controlled. He painted me as a cold, career-obsessed wife who couldn't give him a child, turning our mutual decision to wait into a weapon against me. When I confronted them, Keaton promised to handle it, but it was just another lie. His deception ran deeper than I ever imagined. When a violent figure from Keaton' s past emerged, revealing he had used stolen money to marry into my family, Keaton chose to protect his pregnant mistress over me, leaving me to be attacked and seriously injured. He left me bleeding on the floor of an art gallery, choosing to shield the woman carrying his child-a child that, I would later discover, wasn't even his. I faked my own death, escaping to Ireland to start a new life, free from his web of lies. But Keaton, consumed by a twisted obsession after learning the truth, hunted me down. He found me, desperate to reclaim what he had destroyed. "You're mine, Blair," he growled, his eyes filled with a possessive fire. "Always have been, always will be."

Ninety-Nine Letters, A Thousand Lies

On our third anniversary, I found ninety-nine love letters my husband wrote. None of them were for me. They were for Kennedy, the woman who stole my award-winning design years ago, the woman he swore he was over. His letters spoke of a soul-deep connection, a passion I'd only ever dreamed of. Then, my best friend called from the airport. She saw him there, with Kennedy, locked in a Hollywood-style embrace. He wasn't just cheating. This was a long-con. He'd married me to silence me, using my DNA to help Kennedy fraudulently claim the inheritance of the powerful Olsen family-an inheritance that was rightfully mine. He canceled my credit cards, renounced his citizenship, and secretly married her in France, all while I played the part of the loving wife. When I tried to fight back, he had me drugged, imprisoned, and nearly drowned, all to protect his precious Kennedy. He thought he had erased me, a mere footnote in their grand story. But he made one fatal mistake. He didn't know I was the real Olsen heiress. And I was coming back to claim everything he stole.

Five Years, A Million Lies

The phone buzzed, a jarring sound, and it was Liam. His voice, once a comfort, was now a broken mess, choked out words about losing everything in a high-stakes poker game-including his grandma' s house. I abandoned my college dreams, moved to the coast, and spent five grueling years as a nightclub hostess, saving every dollar to pay off his million-dollar debt. But then, the final payment made, I overheard a conversation. It wasn' t a mistake. It was a five-year-long, cruel game orchestrated by Liam and my high school rival, Ashley Thompson, to punish me for being a scholarship student who always came first. Heartbreakingly, a familiar voice, his, dripped with malice: "It was Ashley's idea. She wanted to punish her. And I owed Ashley a favor." My world tilted. The love, the sacrifice, all a twisted lie. When I confronted him, his voice, stripped of pretense, confirmed my worst fears, "You gave them. Don't pin your bad choices on me. You liked being the hero, didn't you?" Later, Ashley came to my door, demanding a five-million-dollar necklace as "repayment" for my academic success, threatening my ailing mother. Then, a "staged" car accident left me bruised, and Liam, ever the actor, rushed me to the ER, only to abandon me for Ashley' s dinner reservation. My mother, manipulated by Ashley' s lies, died tragically trying to escape the nursing home. Liam, once again, dismissed my grief as an inconvenience. I couldn't fathom the depths of their depravity. Why me? Why such calculated cruelty? What kind of monster would use love as a weapon and sacrifice an innocent life for a twisted game? With nothing left but a box of ashes and a broken heart, I booked a one-way ticket to the UK, determined to reclaim my life, to find out who Chloe Davis truly was beyond their game.

The Sterling's Twisted Love Story

The ambulance siren faded, but the chaos at the Sterling mansion was just beginning. My adoptive sister, Charlotte, had slit her wrist, her note simply stating my name: "Ava." Suddenly, I was standing in the opulent living room, the one where they' d celebrated my adoption five years ago, now a courtroom where I was on trial. My adoptive mother, Eleanor, shrieked, her perfectly manicured hand trembling as she pointed at me. "She loved you. She looked up to you. And you did this to her." Richard Sterling, my adoptive father and a man whose tech empire I was secretly working to expose, stepped forward, his face a thundercloud of rage. "Don' t lie to me, Ava. Charlotte' s note was clear. You' ve been tormenting her." Even Ethan, my usually kind adoptive brother, turned away. "I can' t believe I ever trusted you." The betrayal from him cut deeper than the accusations. Eleanor sobbed, "She' s a fragile girl. You, you' re strong. You preyed on her weakness." Then, Richard' s hand connected with my cheek, the slap echoing in the cavernous room. "You will stay in your room," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "You will not leave. You will not speak to anyone." Locked in my room, Agent Hayes' s immediate message flashed in my mind: Extraction denied. Maintain cover. Sterling is planning something big. We need you inside. My mission, meant to expose Richard, had not only imploded, but had trapped me deeper in their twisted web. I was meant to stay. I was meant to endure. But as Richard' s chilling voice carried through the door later that night, confirming his plan to freeze my accounts and leave me with nothing, I knew one thing: I had to get out.

From Wedding Bells to Shattered Dreams

Five years. That' s how long I' d spent in Paris, dreaming of New York, of the life Liam and I would build. I was finally back, holding the custom cufflinks for our wedding, ready to surprise him at a fancy hotel where he' d told me to meet him for dinner. But I got the surprise instead. I saw him, laughing, his arm around Chloe, his assistant-the same girl who' d made my high school a living hell. They disappeared into the hotel, and moments later, his call came through, breezy and apologetic. "Something huge has come up. I' m deep in negotiations with a crucial client, I can' t get away. We have to postpone dinner." A crucial client. In a luxury hotel room. Then, Chloe' s text: a barrage of photos-Liam kissing her, her in Liam' s shirt, a selfie of them entering the hotel, her lips on his cheek. Underneath: "Hey old friend, long time no see. I' ve got my eyes on your fiancé, no need to give him up, I' ll just take him." The initial shock gave way to a cold, clear calm. The love, the devotion-it felt like a stupid joke. When Liam finally came home, I was packing. He tossed a cheap Eiffel Tower keychain on the table, a souvenir from his "client meeting." Then I heard his friends, Mark and Josh, laughing in the hallway, letting themselves in. "Is he still in there with Chloe?" Mark whispered loudly. "Of course," Josh snickered. "He' s got Ava flying back thinking they' re getting married, while he' s screwing his assistant. He' s a legend." "He says Ava' s a bore. And she doesn' t have that ugly scar on her back." The scar. The one Chloe gave me, pushing me down stairs. The one he' d comforted me about. And then, later, Liam came in with Chloe, her hand snaked around his arm. "Chloe needed a place to stay for a few days. Her apartment has a pest problem," he said, pouring her wine, in our home. Then I saw the prenatal vitamins behind the coffee maker. She wasn' t visiting. She was nesting. Chloe emerged from the bedroom, wrapped in Liam' s bathrobe, fake tears in her eyes. "I' m so sorry. I' ll just go sleep on the street." Liam rushed to her, wrapping his arms around her. "Look what you did! You made her cry! Apologize to her right now, or get out." I stared at him, at the stranger he had become. "Fine," I whispered. I grabbed my bag and walked out into the pouring rain. He pulled up beside me in his car. "Get in, Ava. Stop making a scene." I kept walking. He accelerated, then slammed the brakes, splashing dirty water all over me. "This is what you wanted, right? To be a martyr? Fine. Have fun." He sped off, leaving me bruised, wet, and heartbroken. But then my phone buzzed. It was my grandfather' s assistant. "Miss Miller, your engagement to Mr. Ethan Hayes has been formally agreed upon by both families." Liam' s older brother. The direct opposite of him. One engagement ended in a threat, and another began with a phone call. I knew then that this wasn't the end. It was a new beginning.

The Anniversary Betrayal

The music was thumping, a forced celebration for our third wedding anniversary, but all I wanted was to give Olivia the velvet box in my pocket. Instead, I pushed through the crowd to find her, radiant, but not looking at me – she was looking at Liam Hayes, her childhood best friend. Then, Liam dropped to one knee, holding a diamond ring, and asked my wife to marry him. My blood ran cold as her friends cheered, chanting, "Say yes!" and Olivia giggled, touching his face without a word of protest. When I finally confronted them, Liam mocked me, and Olivia dismissed it as "just a game." Before I could react, Liam feigned an ankle injury, and Olivia, with an ugly scowl I' d never seen before, pushed me away, shouting that I' d ruined her party. I stumbled, my feet tangled, and the world tilted. I woke up at the bottom of the stairs, my leg screaming, the house silent. My wife, on our anniversary, had left me there, bleeding and broken, to care for a man who faked an injury. At the hospital, Liam intercepted the paramedics' call, claiming I was drunk and Olivia was too busy caring for his "bad ankle." Then Olivia called, not to check on me, but to accuse me of pulling a "stunt" for attention, and demanding I apologize to Liam. The doctor' s grim prognosis-a tibia fractured in two places, a permanent limp-crushed me. But the real blow was realizing Olivia had been actively preventing a pregnancy for a year, all while pretending to dream of a family with me. How could I have been so blind? How could the woman who once called me her hero leave me to bleed? Lying in that sterile hospital bed, ignored and abandoned, a cold, unwavering certainty settled within me: it was over. I couldn't do this anymore. I would cut every tie, sever every connection, and rebuild my life, far away from the wreckage of our marriage.

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

One Night With My Billionaire Boss

I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn. Beside me lay Ezra Gardner—my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers. He didn’t offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement. "Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins." He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend’s apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I’d spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes. I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe. "Showtime, Mrs. Gardner." Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend’s face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down.

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!"

Rejected Luna, Claimed by the King

As a wolfless charity case at the Hyde Pack's celebration, my world shattered when Braydon, my supposed protector, publicly announced Katherine Parrish as his Luna, erasing me. Heartbroken, I fled into a terrifying contract marriage with Alpha King Dallas Marshall for protection. Braydon's public assault and threats forced me to reveal my secret marriage, challenging the King. My "protection" felt like a prison. Braydon revealed I was a "key" to power, not a mate, confirming my fears. Enraged by my attempt to take a morning-after pill, Dallas forced me to swallow it, then branded my lips with a furious kiss. His chilling silence hardened my resolve. I immediately drafted an addendum to our contract, setting strict boundaries to reclaim control.

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.

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.