The Fiancé's Treachery: A Dancer's Vengeance

The Unwanted Wife's Revenge

Seven years married to the tech CEO New York adored, I was the picture-perfect wife in a gilded cage. Nine months pregnant, I stood beside him at a glamorous gala, watching as his mistress caused a humiliating scene. Instead of managing her, he hissed, "Sarah, fix this," forcing me to apologize while my water broke. He dismissed my agonizing labor as "dramatic," then celebrated his mistress's birthday while I bled out, alone, in the hospital. Days later, he brought her into *our* opulent penthouse, where she staged a vicious fake attack. When she cut herself, he roared at me to apologize for her bleeding. Looking at my own wrist, I pressed a letter opener to old scars, a silent cry for help. He saw it, then sneered, "What, self-harm for attention now? Pathetic." His methodical abuse, his casual cruelty, had stripped away every shred of my self-worth. How could the world’s most celebrated man be such a soulless monster in private? Why was I, the victim, always to blame, discarded at will? My heart, once broken, solidified into a cold, unbreakable resolve. There was only one way out of this living hell. I orchestrated a final, humiliating public confession, painting myself as the villain. Then, I meticulously staged my own dramatic death, vanishing from the world's stage. Sarah Hayes was officially gone. But Sadie? Sadie was just beginning to live, finally free.

The CEO's Secret Son, My Betrayal

After years of failed fertility treatments, I finally got the news I' d been dreaming of: I was pregnant with my husband' s baby. That same day, I discovered my perfect CEO husband, Harrison Ellis, had a secret. A five-year-old son with his high school sweetheart, a woman from his past I thought was long gone. This wasn't just an affair; it was a parallel life he'd meticulously hidden for years. He gave the private island he promised our baby to his other son. His entire family celebrated the boy's birthday, calling the other woman "Mrs. Bradshaw" while I watched from the shadows, completely invisible. He told me I was his everything, that he'd never betray me. But every promise was a lie, every touch a performance. I was just a placeholder in a life that was never truly mine, a trophy wife to maintain his perfect public image. To protect my unborn child from his world of lies, I had to disappear completely. So I faked my own death in a fiery plane crash, leaving him with only a pregnancy report and the video of his betrayal to remember me by.

He Chose The Dog; I Chose Empire

My masterpiece perfume launch ended in chaos, with my creation blamed for a mass allergic reaction that sent people to the hospital. My fiancé, Blake, the man who had promised me the world, was the one who framed me. He exiled me to a remote cabin for three years, claiming he was protecting me. In reality, he had his twin brother impersonate him, stealing every new formula I created and giving them to my foster sister, Carly, who became a star with my work. When I finally confronted them, the building we were in collapsed. I was trapped under rubble, bleeding out. Rescuers gave Blake a choice: save me, or save Carly's dog from a different, unstable area. "Save the dog," he said. "Emily is strong. She can wait." He left me to die. But I survived. Rescued by the powerful parents I had pushed away, I was given a new identity and a new life in Switzerland. Now, I'm building my own empire, and I'm coming back to burn theirs to the ground.

The CEO Fired His Secret Heiress

I was the secret weapon who built my CEO's company from the ground up. But the moment he hired his new intern girlfriend, my life became a living hell. She publicly humiliated me, calling me a corporate whore. She sabotaged our biggest deal by projecting deepfaked porn of me onto the screen during the signing. Then, she smashed an award over my head, leaving me bleeding on the office floor. And the man I'd dedicated five years of my life to? He looked at my bleeding wound, then at his crying girlfriend, and believed her when she claimed I attacked her. "You're fired," he spat. He thought he was firing a disgraced employee. He had no idea he was firing Allie Valenzuela, the sole heiress to the very corporation that had just saved his company. My next call wasn't to a lawyer. It was to my father.

The Billionaire's Perfect, Plastic Wife

For five years, I played the part of the perfect wife to Knox Steele, heir to a media empire. My life was a curated masterpiece, a reward for surviving the car accident his stepsister, Gemma, caused-an accident that was meant to kill me. At a charity gala, I saw her. Gemma, supposed to be locked away in rehab, was glowing. She was holding the hand of a small boy. And next to her, laughing as the boy tugged on his jacket, was my husband. Hiding in the shadows, I heard the boy call Knox "Daddy." I heard them planning his birthday party for the next day at our lake house-a "family-only" trip I was, as always, excluded from. Then I heard Gemma' s voice, laced with poison. "What about Adelaide? Will she be a problem?" "Don't worry about her," Knox said, his tone dismissive. "I'll tell her it's a business retreat. She'll stay home like a good little wife. Poor thing." My entire five-year marriage was a performance. A carefully constructed cage to keep me quiet while they lived their real life right under my nose. I wasn't family. I was the cover story. But the final betrayal was discovering their plan to drug my morning coffee, to keep me sedated and "unwell" so I wouldn't interfere with their celebration. They weren't just lying to me; they were going to incapacitate me. That's when the woman he married died. I signed the divorce papers, walking away from billions. I wanted nothing from them but their ruin. And as I watched them cut the birthday cake at the lake house, I smiled. My gift was on its way.

Replaced: A Husband's Revenge

"Mr. Phantom, are you sure you want to enter the national street art competition?" the voice on the phone asked, echoing in my lavish penthouse. I, Ethan Hayes, the true Phantom, stared at my reflection, the city lights blurring like the last ten years of my life. I was back.\n\nThe memories hit me-the alley, the sickening crunch of bone, the mangled hands. Olivia, my wife, her eyes cold, furious, saying, "This competition can only be won by 'Phantom'! Anyone who threatens him will be eliminated, and that includes you!" She thought Mark Jensen, my ambitious assistant, was Phantom, my savior. She bought him this penthouse. My art saved her from suicide, but she mistook my pain for jealousy, then had my hands broken when I tried to reclaim my identity.\n\nAt the charity auction, she introduced Mark as Phantom, spending millions on his "art." When my own painting, "Three Days"-a raw depiction of my torture during kidnapping-came up, I desperately bid for it. But she outbid me, buying it for Mark, whispering, "This painting belongs to a true artist. It belongs with Mark."\n\nLater, she orchestrated a horrifying re-enactment of my kidnapping, breaking my hands again for Mark's "inspiration." My own wife. She then forced me to sign a contract in the hospital, giving up my identity as Phantom and agreeing to a divorce, all to save my hands. I signed, but not before telling her, "After this, we are nothing. You are not my wife. I am not your husband. We will be strangers."\n\nI was worthless to her, an embarrassing attachment. But I was Ethan Hayes, the true Phantom, and I wouldn't be destroyed again. I left, starting fresh in a new city, fueled by a promise: the world would see the real Phantom's work, and my revenge would be swift and quiet.

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.

Unmasking My Shunned Wife: She Hid A Thousand Identities

Abandoned as a child and orphaned by murder, Kathryn swore she'd reclaim every shred of her stolen birthright. When she returned, society called her an unpolished love-child, scoffing that Evan had lost his mind to marry her. Only Evan knew the truth: the quiet woman he cradled like porcelain hid secrets enough to set the city trembling. She doubled as a legendary healer, an elusive hacker, and the royal court's favorite perfumer. At meetings, the directors groaned at the lovey-dovey couple, "Does she really have to be here?" Evan shrugged. "Happy wife, happy life." Soon her masks fell, and those who sneered bowed in awe.

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.

Burned By Him, Reborn A Star

The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack." Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard. The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn. "Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress.

Hell In His Eyes, Heaven In His Kiss

Gabriela learned her boyfriend had been two-timing her and writing her off as a brainless bimbo, so she drowned her heartache in reckless adventure. One sultry blackout night she tumbled into bed with a stranger, then slunk away at dawn, convinced she'd succumbed to a notorious playboy. She prayed she'd never see him again. Yet the man beneath those sheets was actually Wesley, the decisive, ice-cool, unshakeable CEO who signed her paychecks. Assuming her heart was elsewhere, Wesley returned to the office cloaked in calm, but every polite smile masked a dark surge of possessive jealousy.

No More Doormat: Dump The Fiancé, Snag The Underworld Emperor

Clara had to die once to see who truly surrounded her-traitors and opportunists everywhere. After her rebirth, she swore to make her enemies pay. Her fiancé mocked, "You think you deserve me?" She punched him and ended the engagement. Her stepsister played innocent, but Clara shut her down with a cold retort. "Stop pretending! I'm tired of your little act!" They called her a loser, but Clara didn't bother defending herself. Instead, she revealed her real power: superstar, racing champion, and secret mogul. When her masks fell, chaos erupted. Her ex begged, and the crime lord claimed her, but Clara had already conquered them all.