Broken Vows, True Hearts

His Cruelty, Her Comeback

My husband, Bennet, was my hero. Three years ago, his stalker, Gianna, crippled my drawing hand, ending my career as an architect. Bennet promised me justice, locking her away in a remote cabin to suffer for her crime. On our fifth wedding anniversary, I went to the county office to update my records. The clerk looked at me with pity. "Ma'am, our records show you were divorced three years ago. Your ex-husband, Bennet Crosby, remarried on the same day." The name she read next shattered my world: Gianna Skinner. The punishment was a lie. Their prison was a lover's paradise. For three years, he lived a double life, celebrating our anniversary with his other wife. He brought her into our home as a maid, claiming it was for my "healing." He even shoved me to the ground in public to save her from a staged fall. The final betrayal came when Gianna framed me, convincing Bennet I had hired men to assault her. He dragged me to a dark room, not even recognizing me through a mask. He believed I was a stranger who had hurt his real wife. "Anyone who lays a hand on my wife," he snarled, "will feel a thousand times the pain." He personally whipped me ninety-nine times. The man who swore to protect me became my torturer, all while believing he was defending the woman he truly loved. He left me for dead, ordering his men to finish the job. But I escaped. Bleeding and broken, I fled the country with a new identity, my heart set on one thing: entering the Paris architecture competition and taking back the life he tried to destroy. He thought he had clipped my wings, but he only taught me how to fly from the ashes.

The Unwanted Omega: Rejected for His Mistress

I was the Alpha's Fated Mate, yet I lived in the mansion as an unpaid servant while he played house with his mistress. For five years, Emilio refused to mark me, claiming my wolf was too weak to bear an heir. But on the night of the Gala, everything shattered. His mistress's son accused me of hitting him. Without asking for the truth, Emilio unleashed his Alpha power on me. He slammed me into a buffet table to protect a lying child. I lay in the broken glass, feeling the life inside me—the baby I hadn't told him about yet—slip away in a pool of blood. Instead of helping me, Emilio stepped over my body to comfort his mistress. "Clean this mess up," he barked at the guards, leaving me to die. Heartbroken, I tricked him into signing divorce papers disguised as tax forms and prepared to leave. But his mistress wasn't satisfied. She paid rogues with Emilio's own family silver to throw me off a cliff into the freezing river. They thought the weak Omega would drown. They were wrong. The icy water didn't kill me; it awakened the Ancient White Wolf dormant in my blood. Three years later, I returned not as a ghost, but as a Queen. Emilio knelt in the snow, weeping and begging for another chance. I looked down at him, my eyes glowing gold, and smiled cold. "I reject you, Emilio Thomas."

The Day My Love For Him Died

On my birthday, my husband Jensen gave the Logan Star, a priceless family heirloom promised to me, to his widowed sister-in-law, Isabella. It wasn't just a gift. It was a public declaration. Isabella was pregnant with his child-the heir I had failed to provide. His mother, the family matriarch, then announced I was to be moved from our master suite to a smaller wing to give Isabella the space and comfort she "deserved." Jensen just stood there, telling me to be "reasonable" for the sake of the family legacy. He had chosen his bloodline over our marriage, over me. He had promised to always choose me, but in that moment, I realized I was just a placeholder, easily discarded for a more "fertile" option. The love I had for him died, replaced by a cold, quiet resolve. So I smiled, agreed to everything, and walked away. That night, I boarded my private yacht. As it exploded in a fiery wreck at sea, with the world believing I was dead, my father received a single text from me: "It's time." The divorce was final, and the destruction of the Logan empire had just begun.

A Mother's Sword

The soft beep of the heart monitor was the first sound I heard, cutting through the fog of impact, of screeching tires, and Michael' s small hand slipping from mine. I was in a hospital, a dull ache spreading through my entire body. Then the door opened, and Tiffany, the senator' s daughter, the one who was driving, stood there. "Oh, you're awake," she said, devoid of concern, as if my son, Michael, was an inconvenience. "My father has taken care of everything. The official report will say it was a tragic accident caused by poor road conditions." She even offered to pay my hospital bills. The world I knew, where right was right, crumbled. My son, my kind, innocent Michael, was just an "annoyance" to them. The police wouldn't help, the law wouldn't help. Despair was a suffocating blanket, threatening to pull me under. They thought I was just a grieving, helpless widow to be bought off and intimidated. They thought my husband' s Medal of Honor, tucked away at home, was just a piece of metal. They thought his sacrifice meant nothing. But as Tiffany walked out, a cold, hard purpose crystallized within me hotter than any rage. My tears stopped. I looked at my steady hands. The woman who had been rushed into that hospital was gone. I was checking out.

Betrayed By The Fiance: The Unsinkable Heiress

My first life ended in the icy, unforgiving grasp of the Hudson River. The memory of the dark water choking me, burning my lungs, was as real as the silk sheets I lay on now. Ethan' s voice, a blade to my soul, still pierced me: "You deserve it, Ava, for stealing Chloe' s life." Noah, the kind cousin who, despite his weak heart, desperately tried to save me, struggled and disappeared beneath the waves alongside me. Then, miraculously, I gasped awake in my opulent SoHo bedroom, sunlight warming my face, a stark contrast to the cold dread that now gripped me. My phone buzzed with a reminder: "Lunch with Ethan, 1PM." Panic surged – it was today. The very day Chloe Jenkins, a deluded scholarship student, had convinced my fiancé, Ethan, that she was the real Miller heiress, leading him to betray me. The brutal memories weren' t a dream; they were a chilling premonition, every detail of my impending kidnapping and murder replaying in vivid terror. How could the man I was to marry so easily believe such an insane lie, so readily trade me for a perceived better option? His betrayal had been a fresh wound even in my last moments, and now it was a ghost haunting my every breath. Ava Miller, the Miller heiress, was alive, but the exact script of my agonizing death was already written, the cruel actors in place, their roles meticulously cast. I remembered Chloe' s smug face at the desolate pier, just before she snatched my phone, relishing the thought of me begging for my life. But this time, I wouldn' t repeat the past. I wouldn't call Ethan. My trembling fingers scrolled past his name, reaching instead for Jackson, my fiercely protective brother and the CEO of the Miller empire. Then, a cryptic text to Noah Williams, the gentle soul who died trying to save me. This time, I would rewrite the ending.

My Stepsister's Dark Gift

I was Olivia Miller, the quiet, studious pre-med student from a prominent family. My stepsister, Izzy, was the dazzling socialite, everyone' s favorite, effortlessly getting what she wanted. Then, the unexplained began. Dark bruises marred my skin, then alarming hickeys appeared on my neck, though I hadn' t been with anyone. My family's judgment quickly fell, and Izzy, with sugary sweetness, presented me with an antique silver locket-a "family heirloom for protection." New marks appeared the very next day. The humiliation peaked at a prestigious university conference. Mid-speech, I collapsed at the podium, bleeding inexplicably, as gasps rippled through the auditorium. Doctors found no cause, yet whispers of a "wild lifestyle" and "secret abortion" turned me from star student into campus scandal. My fiancé, Ethan, suggested our engagement be "transferred" to Izzy, citing my "embarrassing behavior." My appearance-obsessed parents believed every lie. How could these things happen? Why did Izzy always look so perfect, radiating health, while my body and reputation disintegrated under the weight of these bizarre, unexplainable marks? The injustice and confusion were unbearable, trapping me. But then, the world reset. I was back at the podium, exact same moment, the same horrific pain beginning. As my vision blurred, I saw Izzy' s face in the crowd: a sliver of dark satisfaction beneath her practiced concern. This time, I wouldn't just collapse. I understood the curse. Izzy had just handed me the weapon to turn it back on her.

Beg For My Love, Cold-Hearted CEO

Since she was ten, Noreen had been by Caiden's side, watching him rise from a young boy into a respected CEO. After two years of marriage, though, his visits home grew rare. Gossip among the wealthy said he despised her. Even his beloved mocked her hopes, and his circle treated her with scorn. People forgot about her decade of loyalty. She clung to memories and became a figure of ridicule, worn out from trying. They thought he'd won his freedom, but he dropped to his knees and begged, "Noreen, you're the only one I love." Leaving behind the divorce papers, she walked away.

Best Friend Divorced Me When I Carried His Baby

Marrying her best friend was a dream come true for Kelly, but everything truly has a limitation. Pierce is Kelly’s first love, but as his best friend, she knew well there was always another woman deep in his heart. Lexi Gilbert. The woman Pierce could never forget even if he had already been arranged to marry Kelly. *** Kelly finally realized their happy marriage of the last three years was just a beautiful dream when Pierce asked for a divorce just because Lexi returned. She could only be his best friend even if she was carrying his baby. *** Since their friendship had become a cage, Kelly chose to set him free, as well as the miserable herself. But why then, it was Pierce who became the one who refused to move on? To make matters worse, her devil stepbrother also domineeringly stepped in at the same time, asking her to be his. *** Her Prince Charming vs. Her Devil Stepbrother? How could Kelly save her heart in this battle of love and hate?

A Favor To My Boss

Emma had agreed to pretend to be her boss's girlfriend at an event where his ex-wife planned to show up with the guy she had cheated with. "We'll see how this turns out."

The Queen Returns: Pampered By Her Three Powerhouse Brothers

After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken."

Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell

"Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress. With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap. Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell. On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered. When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling."

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.